


Eames the Sassy Ghost

by QueenThayet



Series: Ghost!Eames [1]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: A itty bitty 00Q crossover, Consensual Possession, Eventual Poly relationship with Arthur and his Ghost boyfriend, Ghost Sex, Ghostly cockblocking, Ghostly hijinks, I should probably not be shocked that consensual possession was an extant tag on AO3, M/M, Medium!Robert, Multi, Skeptic!Arthur, but it's kind of there if you squint, but not really, ghost!eames
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-08-22 12:07:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8285306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenThayet/pseuds/QueenThayet
Summary: (Like Casper the Friendly Ghost). Arthur, who doesn't believe in ghosts, has a very strange series of events happening to him in his home. It's Eames, the sassy ghost! Eames and Arthur embark on a very strange relationship, given that one of them is incorporeal.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm not warning for Major Character Death, but as Eames is a ghost in this fic, obviously he's dead. Basically, he died in the 1940s, so he could not have met Arthur in real life. Despite the time (and aliveness) difference, they fall in love. Because nothing can stop this OTP. Inspired loosely by Cordelia's ghost roommate, Dennis, in the TV show Angel, and helped immensely by the Caleb/Gray/John relationship in Jordan L. Hawk's SPECTR series (which OMG go read immediately, it's so so so so good). And of course all of my enablers on the Inception Slack Chat. :-*

Arthur woke up suddenly, as he heard a door slam. He fumbled on the nightstand for his glasses so he could see the clock: 4:07am. This was the third time this week he’d been awoken by a slamming door at this time. “Fucking neighbors,” he grumbled to himself as he put his glasses back on the nightstand and rolled back over to go back to sleep. He assumed that one of his neighbors had gotten a new job, an early job, and they were just being inconsiderate when they left.

After another week of waking up at 4:07 every morning, he was ready to figure out who was disrupting his sleep. He set his alarm for 4:00am sharp, so he could see who was leaving so early. His alarm went off and he groggily shoved his glasses on his face and sat up. He moved over to the window to watch who was leaving. He heard the door slam at 4:07am exactly (he was watching the clock), but no one came out. He sat for another twenty minutes, waiting for someone to leave the building, but there was no one.

“So there’s just someone slamming a door at 4:07 am every morning for no apparent reason,” Arthur finished explaining to his friend and co-worker, Ariadne.

“Maybe it’s a ghost,” Ariadne said, smiling.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Arthur snapped.

“I don’t know, it makes as much sense as someone randomly slamming a door at exactly the same time at an ungodly hour of the morning,” Ariadne responded. 

“Except people do random shit all the time, and ghosts aren’t real,” Arthur said firmly. “I’ll just have to get some earplugs.” 

***

The earplugs were working. Except now his phone alarm was malfunctioning. It wouldn’t stay set for the correct time for whatever reason. Either it would go off too late and he would have to rush of to work without having time to gel his hair or put in his contacts, or it would go off too early, fifteen or twenty minutes earlier than necessary. He was a firm believer that the snooze button resulted in bad sleep and worse sleep habits, so he had taken to having a leisurely morning wank in bed or in the shower on the mornings his alarm woke him up too early. 

“It’s so strange. At first it seemed totally random whether my alarm would be late or early or just not go off at all, but now it seems to go off at 7:10 every morning, even though I set it for 7:30,” Arthur told Ariadne. 

“Huh, weird. Did you try setting it for something other than 7:30 to see if that got changed also?” Ariadne asked.

“Yeah, I tried setting it for 7:20am to see if it would move it 20 minutes early, or if it would stay at 7:10,” Arthur responded.

“And?” Ariadne motioned for him to continue.

“And it went off at 7:20. I have no idea what’s going on,” Arthur threw his hands in the air. 

“Maybe it’s your ghost,” Ariadne said. 

“It’s probably just some setting on my phone that got changed with the latest iOS update. They’ve got all this stuff that integrates into fitness trackers that can track your sleep. It’s obviously not a ghost,” Arthur said dryly. 

“Well, if it’s bothering you, why don’t you just get a real alarm clock?” Ariadne asked. 

“It’s actually not that bad now that it’s not just randomly making me late. Getting up a little early isn’t too bad, and it’s nice to have the extra time in the morning,” Arthur said thoughtfully.

“So why are you complaining to me, again?” Ariadne asked, tartly. 

“Because I’m a curmudgeon?” Arthur grinned at her.

“I still think it’s a ghost. Maybe it’s just a helpful ghost.”

“And on that note...” Arthur stood up and walked back over to his desk to get back to work. 

***

“So it’s the weirdest thing,” Arthur said to Ariadne several days later. 

“Is your ghost acting up again?” She looked up from her computer.

“It’s not a ghost,” Arthur said automatically. “But I do seem to have a secret admirer.”

“Yes, that is weird. Because you’re clearly hideous and everyone runs in fear from your horrid visage,” Ariadne said sarcastically. 

“Not actually helping,” Arthur glared at her. 

“Sorry,” Ariadne said unrepentantly. “Tell me about your weird secret admirer.”

“I keep finding flowers outside my apartment door. There’s no note. I’m not even sure they’re professional arrangements. Just, flowers bundled together outside my apartment every day. When I wake up and when I come home from work. And if I leave the house again after I come home from work there are flowers there then also. It feels like a spawn point for flowers in a video game or something” Arthur joked. 

“That’s sweet,” Ariadne said, smiling. “Your ghost is bringing you flowers!” 

“Shut up, it’s not a ghost,” Arthur said.

“You get very defensive when I bring up the ghost,” Ariadne said. “Me thinks the lady doth protest too much.” 

“That doesn’t even make any sense,” Arthur rolled his eyes. “And how many times do I have to tell you, ghosts don’t exist.”

“Okay, then why do you think it’s a secret admirer and not just some kid leaving flowers around the hallway?” Ariadne asked, raising an eyebrow. Arthur visibly deflated. 

“Oh, you’re right. It probably is just that. I guess I had just kind of hoped that it was an admirer.”

“Oh my god, you so need a boyfriend,” Ariadne said exasperatedly. “We are going out clubbing tomorrow night. No arguments!” 

Arthur raised his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, but to be fair, I’m unlikely to find a boyfriend at the club.” 

“You’ll be able to find someone to hook up with though, and getting you laid would probably mean you complain less, so it’s a win-win situation.” 

“You’re not wrong, I suppose,” Arthur allowed, grinning. He enjoyed clubbing anyway, and he might just get lucky.

***

Arthur found himself pushed up against his door being thoroughly kissed by the very attractive man he had picked up at the club. They had been all over each other all night dancing, and then in the cab ride back to Arthur’s place, and Arthur was afraid he was about to come in his pants in the hallway. 

“Mmm, wait, waitwaitwaitwait,” Arthur tried to pull away from... Matt? Fuck what was his name? Mark? Blue eyes, gorgeous ass, excellent kisser, whatever his name was. “Just let me...” He turned around and managed to fit his key into his lock and unlocked the door. Blue-eyes-name-starts-with-an-M held his hips and ground up against Arthur as he tried to pull the door open. 

“Mmmm, seeing you fit that key in that hole, makes me want to see how you fit into my hole,” Blue-eyes said. 

Arthur ignored the truly terrible innuendo, reminding himself that he picked this guy up because of his incredibly tight ass, not for his witticisms. “Inside,” he gasped, yanking the door open and tumbling through the doorway, before he reattached his mouth to Blue-eyes’. 

“God, I want you inside me,” Blue-eyes moaned, pawing at Arthur’s clothes. 

“Oh god, yes,” Arthur moaned back, peeling off their clothes he pulled Blue-eyes toward his bedroom. He wasn’t looking where he was going, which became painfully obvious when he tripped backwards over his bed.

“Ugh,” Arthur groaned. Was his bed in a different spot? Or was he more drunk than he thought he was? Blue-eyes (what _was_ his name? Matt. Arthur was pretty sure it was Matt) Matt didn’t seem to have noticed and was still divesting Arthur of the rest of his clothing. Arthur climbed backwards onto the bed, shimmying out of his pants and underwear as he did so, pulling Matt along with him. He got Matt’s pants off as well (no underwear, Arthur noted appreciatively), and grabbed his ass with both hands, grinding up against him. 

“You want me in that tight perfect ass of yours,” Arthur said crudely, “How do you want me? You want to ride me? Fuck yourself on my cock? Or should I flip you over so I can really enjoy the view?” 

“Oh yeah, babe—” Matt started saying, but then all of a sudden the lights flickered, and then went out entirely. Arthur groaned, not wanting to deal with this right now. He just wanted to hook up with a hot guy he met at a club, was that really too much to ask? 

“I’ve got some candles somewhere around here,” Arthur said, trying not to completely kill the mood. He slid off the bed and started looking in drawers and cabinets, trying to remember where he had stuck the candles and matches. He found a few in the kitchen and came back carrying them triumphantly. “Now, where were we?”

Matt was sitting on the bed, clutching his knees to his chest, looking terrified. “What’s wrong?” Arthur asked, setting the candles down. 

“I.... I.... I have to get out of here!” Matt practically shrieked. He pulled on his pants quickly, slid his feet into his shoes and just grabbed his shirt and phone as he ran out of Arthur’s apartment. 

“Wait, what happened?” Arthur tried calling after him, but he was already halfway down the block. Arthur pulled his clothes on and went after him, but then an Uber showed up and Matt got in, without even acknowledging Arthur. 

Arthur trudged back to his apartment, confused and frustrated. He kicked off his shoes and slammed the door. Suddenly the lights came back on. Arthur realized that the lights hadn’t been off in the hallway. So the whole building hadn’t lost power. He sighed and headed back to his bedroom, grabbing the lube out of his nightstand. The whole strange ordeal hadn’t done much to put a damper on his hard on (Ariadne was right, he really did need to get laid), so he might as well take care of himself.

He slicked up his hand and began running it over his throbbing cock, thinking about Matt’s gorgeous ass, how he was grinding up against him while they danced. He began to pinch at his nipple with the other hand, enjoying the shot of pleasure that went right to his balls. He felt his orgasm gathering steam so he backed off a bit, and then flipped over, running his lubed up finger against his asshole. It had been a while, well, it had been a while since he’d done anything with _anyone_ else, but it had been even longer since he’d bottomed. He pushed his finger further in, feeling the slight stretch. He stroked his cock with the other hand, enjoying the dual sensations, before pushing a second finger into himself. He fingered himself slowly, slowing the strokes to his cock to match, drawing out his inevitable climax. He could feel it building, but instead of rushing, he slowed down even more, until he was tingling all over. He thought he heard someone whisper “yes” as he finally tipped over the edge, shooting white strings of come all over the bed. He kept fingering himself through it, enjoying the way his ass clenched around his fingers before he finally withdrew and collapsed on the other side of the bed. He eventually got up to clean himself up and throw a towel down over the wet spot. He didn’t hear anything, not the neighbors’ TV or radio. It must have just been his imagination. There wasn’t anyone there. Of course there wasn’t.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you to all of the wonderful people on the Inception slack chat who have sprinted with me and helped me work out plot points! I'm having so much fun writing this, and I hope it's fun to read also!

“So how did it go with the hottie you took home Friday night?” Ariadne asked at lunch on Monday.

“Ugh,” Arthur groaned. “I lost power and then he freaked out for some reason and just ran out of there.” 

“That’s too bad. How long was the power down? We didn’t lose it on my street, I didn’t see anything about any major outages this weekend.” Ariadne reached over and snagged one of Arthur’s french fries.

  
“Not very long, that’s the weird thing. It came back on almost immediately after Matt ran out. And it seems like other people didn’t actually lose power. When I checked with the power company the next day, they didn’t even have a record of an outage. It must have been a circuit that tripped for my apartment or something.” Arthur frowned.

“Oh, y’know what, I bet it was your ghost,” Ariadne said brightly.

“Well, that’s impossible, because ghosts don’t exist,” Arthur said firmly, rolling his eyes.

“Think about it. You lost power when you brought home a hot guy. And then he ran away spooked? And then the power comes back on. And the outage was localized to your apartment? Sounds like your ghost is jealous.” 

“You realize you’re an insane person, right?”

“I’m just saying, it makes sense. Occam’s razor.” 

“You can’t use Occam’s razor to justify something that’s not possible, Ariadne.” 

“You’ve had a lot of very strange experiences, Arthur, I think you should consider the idea that you’re being haunted.”

“That’s completely ridiculous,” Arthur spluttered. Despite his protests, he was starting to think that Ariadne’s theory might have merit. He hadn’t mentioned the additional strange things that happened to him over the weekend to Ariadne at all, mostly because he knew that she would take it as further evidence that he had a ghost. He hadn’t mentioned the weird voice he thought he’d heard. Or that he _knew_ he had grabbed a towel this morning before he got in the shower, but it was gone when he’d gotten out of the shower. He’d had to wander around his apartment naked and dripping wet looking for a towel. 

By the end of the day, after some extensive googling, Arthur was willing to at least consider Ariadne’s ghost idea. Or at least consider that it wasn’t worth rejecting out of hand without testing it.

“Okay, so if it were a ghost, what would I need to do to try to figure that out,” Arthur asked Ariadne as he stopped by her desk on the way out of the office.

“Oh! We should hold a séance!” Ariadne said excitedly. “What are you doing this evening?”

“You want to do it now?” Arthur asked, horrified. 

“Why not?” Ariadne asked. “Better to get to the bottom of it sooner rather than later. Unless you’re busy tonight.” 

“Uh, no, no plans,” Arthur said, still a little off balance.

“Great! Do you have candles at home?”

“Yeah, I had to dig them out for the power outage on Friday.”

“Okay, then let’s head to your place!” Ariadne grinned like a kid in a candy store.

Once they got back to Arthur’s apartment, Ariadne sprang into action. She clearly had experience with this sort of thing before. Arthur wasn't really sure if he should be worried or reassured by that.  

She took a piece of string and stretched it out into a circle on the living room floor. Then she placed candles at the four cardinal directions and lit them. 

“Go ahead and step into the circle, Arthur,” Ariadne instructed. He looked skeptically at her, but did as she said. She turned off the lights, so that the only light was coming from the four candles on the floor.

“Now repeat after me: Spirit who inhabits this place, please make yourself known. I am ready to see and hear you.” 

“Seriously?” Arthur asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, seriously. And hold your hands out to the side, palms open. It demonstrates your receptivity,” Ariadne said sternly. 

“Spirit who inhabits this place, please make yourself known. I am ready to see and hear you,” Arthur intoned, feeling like a complete idiot the entire time. Nothing happened. 

“Try it again,” Ariadne encouraged. “Maybe try to sound a little more welcoming this time.” 

“Spirit who inhabits this place, please make yourself known. I am ready to see and hear you,” Arthur repeated, trying to sound more enthusiastic. “Nothing is happening, Ari. Can we cross this off the list and start trying to figure out what’s really going on now?” 

Then, suddenly, the candles went out all at once. The room was completely dark, except for a strange light coming from the doorway of his bedroom. Arthur stood, stunned for moment as the light drew nearer to him and seemed to coalesce into a shape, a human shape. 

“Darling! I thought you’d never ask!” 

***

Arthur opened his eyes to see Ariadne hovering over him, wiping his forehead with a wet washcloth. The lights in the room were on and he was sort of propped up against the front of his couch. 

“What just happened?” 

“You fainted, we were worried about you,” Ariadne said with audible concern in her voice. 

“Who is we?” Arthur said, still a bit dazed. 

“Me and Eames.” 

“Who is Eames?” 

“That would be me, darling,” said a male voice with a British accent. Arthur looked up toward the voice and saw a very attractive man, about his height, mid-30s, in a horribly dated suit. Of course the man also happened to be mostly translucent and hovering several inches off the floor. Arthur closed his eyes again and leaned his head back. 

“Arthur, are you okay?” Ariadne asked. 

“No, I’m definitely not. Because I see a ghost. And ghosts aren’t real. So I’m apparently losing my mind.”

“Darling, I assure you that I am quite real,” Eames sounded offended.

“Arthur, I know that you don’t believe in this sort of stuff, but I’m not sure what else to tell you. We tested it, and you have a ghost. He’s right here before your eyes. And he said that he was responsible for all of the odd incidents you’ve been having. Besides, if you were losing your mind, how could you possibly come up with Eames? He’s British!” 

“Okay, yeah, why do you have a British accent?” Arthur sat up and looked at Eames as he questioned him. 

“Because I’m British, darling. Obviously.” 

“Yes, obviously, but if you’re British, why are you _here_? Why are you haunting my apartment?” Arthur rolled his eyes. 

“You do know that we had intercontinental travel in the 40’s right, darling?” Eames teased.

“And why do you keep calling me darling? My name is Arthur.”

“Ah, yes, Ahhhthuuuhhh,” Eames practically purred Arthur’s name, stretching out the vowels and dropping the ‘r’s. Arthur immediately broke out in goosebumps upon hearing Eames say his name like that. Now he knew he was going nuts: he was getting turned on by hearing a British ghost say his name. “I was in the States doing a bit of liaising with your government on behalf of my government. Let’s just leave it at that, shall we.” 

“So you died here in the 1940s?” Arthur asked. 

“Apparently so, darling,” Eames said. He hadn’t actually answered Arthur’s question about why he kept calling him darling. Arthur found that he didn’t particularly mind, though. 

“Arthur,” Ariadne hissed, “Don’t be rude! He probably doesn’t want to talk about his death.” 

“It’s quite all right, pet,” Eames said congenially, “It’s been a while. Time heals all wounds and all that. Well, except for the actual being dead part,” he laughed at his own joke. Arthur rolled his eyes, but found himself smiling despite himself. 

“Darling! You have _dimples_!” Eames sounded absolutely delighted. “How did I not know that you had _dimples_?”

“Because he probably doesn’t ever smile at home,” Ariadne jumped in. 

“I do so!” Arthur protested. “Probably. I don’t know, I don’t really spend a lot of time looking at myself.”

“Darling, let me assure you, I spend a great deal of time looking at you--although to be fair, I’m not always focused on your face--and I have never seen those dimples before in my life... er... afterlife,” Eames said confidently. 

“Wait, what?” Arthur said, blushing. Eames didn’t respond, he merely leered at Arthur, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Oh my god,” Arthur said, finally putting together all the pieces, “you stole my towel this morning. You were watching me run around my apartment naked.”

“Yes, I’m a bit sorry about that one, I hadn’t realized how cold you would be. Luckily I’ve seen you in action, so to say, so I know that this morning did not reflect the full range of your assets. Still, it’s hard to pass up a chance to see your lovely arse,” Eames whistled appreciatively, floating over behind Arthur and bending down, as if he was trying to get a good look at Arthur’s backside. Ariadne cackled with laughter.

Arthur blushed deeply at the thought that he was being observed that morning. “Shit, you’re the reason my alarm keeps going off early,” he said, further realization dawning as Eames’ comment about seeing him in action clicked. 

“What can I say? You made such good use of the extra time, how could I possibly _not_ encourage that habit,” Eames smirked. Ariadne raised her eyebrows, grinning at Arthur. 

“I think there are parts of this story that you’ve left out,” she teased Arthur. 

“Oh my god,” Arthur said, blushing even harder.

“I generally just go by Eames, but I suppose if you feel that strongly about it...” Eames waggled his eyebrows again. Ariadne just laughed harder. 

“Okay, no, nope. I cannot with this right now. Eames and I need to have a discussion about boundaries and appropriate, non-creepy behavior. Ariadne, you were right, thank you for your help, I will see you tomorrow,” Arthur said, standing up and moving toward the door to his apartment.

“Wait, but I want to talk to Eames more...” Ariadne protested. 

“You can come by tomorrow after work and talk to him all you’d like, but we need to have a little chat first,” Arthur said firmly. Ariadne walked out the door somewhat sulkily. 

“Okay, but I want ‘Ariadne was right’ in writing on my desk tomorrow morning,” she said, as Arthur closed the door to his apartment. 

Arthur turned to glare at Eames. “We are going to have a _talk_ about the things you have been doing to me.” 

“By all means, darling, let’s _talk_ ,” Eames managed to suffuse the word with innuendo. “And then you can see what you’ve been doing to me.”

“Wait, what?” Arthur asked. 

“Darling, I’m simply mad for you. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to be attracted to someone as a ghost?” Eames sat down as if on an invisible chair and crossed his legs primly. 

“Me?” 

“No the other fit bloke who lives in this apartment. Yes you, darling.” Eames sounded put out. 

“Oh... um... Thank you?” Arthur said tentatively. “You’re pretty hot too, even with that awful suit,” he offered. 

“Not all of us lived in the era of well-cut trousers, darling. Not that I’m complaining,” Eames leered at Arthur again.

“So you’ve been watching me, um...” Arthur blushed again, still finding it awkward to discuss his masturbatory habits with anyone, even a ghost. 

“Toss off in the morning? Yes,” Eames grinned. “It’s the highlight of my day usually. Although the show you gave me on Friday night was much appreciated. I really resented being insubstantial at that moment.” 

“So you can’t, um, get yourself off?” Arthur asked. 

Eames shook his head sadly, “No. I’ve had almost seven decades of thwarted sexual desire.”

“Then what do you get out of watching me?” Arthur was genuinely curious. 

“Darling, I’m insubstantial, not dead,” Eames smoldered at him.

“Except you are literally dead,” Arthur deadpanned. 

“Missing the point, darling,” Eames huffed. 

“Then why the fuck did you scare away my hook-up on Friday night?” Arthur asked, irritation tingeing his voice. “I could have gotten laid, and you would have gotten an even better show!”

  
Eames looked slightly ashamed, “I may have been a bit jealous.” He stood up from his invisible chair and turned so he was looking away from Arthur.

“Oh,” Arthur said in a small voice. “But I didn’t even know you existed.” 

“Yes, well...” Eames twisted his hands anxiously. “I have to say, you’re taking this much better than I would have suspected.” 

“How do people usually take it when you tell them that you’ve been watching them get off in the morning and scaring away their dates?” Arthur asked dryly. 

“I’ve never, I mean, I’ve watched people occasionally before, of course, but I’ve never scared off anyone’s date before, and I’ve never introduced myself to anyone before.” Eames’ answer lacked the smooth bravado that had suffused his earlier responses. He seemed almost vulnerable, if that word could be used for a ghost. 

“Oh,” Arthur said again. He wasn’t sure how to take this particular confession. It was almost easier to accept a horny ghost voyeur than a ghost that altered decades of behavior in order to meet boring old Arthur. “So, I guess you know a lot about me already, why don’t you tell me about yourself,” Arthur continued with a confidence that he didn’t feel. If a ghost that had probably seen hundreds of people in the years since his death thought there was something special enough about Arthur that merited an introduction, he figured he should at least get to know him.

“Really?” Eames turned back toward Arthur, his face hopeful. 

“Yeah,” Arthur said with a smile. “I want to know everything.”


	3. Chapter 3

“So you’re dating a ghost?” Ariadne asked, as Arthur finished giving her an (edited) account of his discussion with Eames the previous evening.

“Yes?” Arthur shrugged.

“I have to say, you’ve gone from ‘there’s no such thing as ghosts’ to ‘I have a live-in ghost boyfriend’ remarkably quickly,” Ariadne said. 

“What can I say? I’m a science-minded man. When faced with incontrovertible proof, I trust the evidence.”

“It’s the dating that seems rather sudden,” Ariadne said, slightly concerned. “You’re not concerned about living with a ghost?” 

“No, if he wanted to do something to hurt me, he obviously could have done that already. He’s been there the whole time I’ve been living in my apartment. I mean, yeah, he was kind of haunting me, but it was more like ghostly flirting. It’s not like he could just chat me up at a bar or something,” Arthur said defensively. “And he already lives with me, so I figured we might as well give it a go. And he’s really funny, and sweet. And really interesting! He worked for British Military Intelligence during World War II! And he’s a really good listener! And he likes me! And it doesn't hurt that he's incredibly hot." 

“Oh my god, you’re totally gone on him already,” Ariadne said.

“I mean, he is my boyfriend, I guess I should be,” Arthur grinned.

“Okay, well, as your best friend, I still need to approve him, so when do I get to come over and grill him?”

“You met him last night! I thought you liked him!” Arthur protested.

“I met him, yes, but just barely. We were a little focused on you and your delicate constitution. Then I got shoved out so that you could ‘talk’, and you said I could come ask him all the questions I wanted tonight,” Ariadne teased. “I need to make sure he’s good enough for you.”

“Maybe tomorrow night? We kind of have plans for tonight,” Arthur blushed.

“Oh my god, do I even want to know what a date night with a ghost entails?” 

“Um...” Arthur blushed harder. “We’re still getting to know each other,” he prevaricated.

“Okay, nope, I do not need to know the details of your weird ghost sex.”

“Ugh, it’s not like that,” Arthur protested. 

“Yeah, whatever, I caught that bit last night about him seeing you in action,” Ariadne smirked. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Have fun!”

***

“So I guess we should probably go over our history,” Arthur said. 

“Darling, I hate to break it to you, but I’m already dead, I’m not terribly worried about VD.” 

Arthur glared at Eames, who was still perched on the edge of an invisible chair, sitting in front of him. “Not for that, obviously. But it still good to know each other’s dating experience, that sort of thing. I thought we were getting to know each other better tonight.” 

“I’ll be honest, I thought perhaps that was a euphemism for other activities,” Eames leered.

“We can talk about that too, but first I think we should focus on getting to know each other better,” Arthur said primly. “It’s not like you’re short on time.”

“True,” Eames pursed his lips. Arthur stared at Eames’ lips for a moment, wondering how pale ghost lips could be quite that arousing. They were though, as he felt his cock start to swell as he imagined those lips wrapped around him. “All right, shall I start then, or would you like to?” Arthur shook his head, his fantasy interrupted. 

“Um, I guess I can start. I had my first boyfriend at sixteen, there was a lot of sneaking around and making out and hurried hand jobs in his car. We broke up when we went off to college since we were going to schools on separate coasts. I dated around a bit before I met Joshua, and we were together for three years. Ultimately we wanted different things out of life though, so I went to grad school and then moved here when I got a job. I’ve dated a little, but haven’t really found anyone I connected with here. I’ve had a bit of a dry spell since I moved here, as you’re no doubt aware of,” Arthur looked up to see Eames smirking at him. “Anyway, that’s my uneventful history.” 

“Ah well, my romantic history is perhaps more uneventful than yours, darling. I certainly had my share of sexual experience, between boarding school and the war and all the post-war travel. Never too difficult to find a ready port in a storm, if you know what I mean,” Eames waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “But I was never one to settle down. Once I survived the war, especially, I just had so much that I wanted to do and see.” 

“So you’re not still here pining for some lost love?” Arthur asked, half joking, but still nervous about the answer.

“Not as such, no.” Eames pursed his lips together, but didn’t elaborate anymore on the subject. 

“I don’t know if this is rude, but why are you still here? I’ll grant you that I’m not fully informed on all the ghost-lore, but I thought ghosts were supposed to have some sort of unfinished business. Is there something I can do to help you?” 

“Darling, trying to get rid of me already?” Eames’ tone was teasing, but his face looked sad. 

“No, no, that’s not what I meant,” Arthur stammered. “I just, I don’t know how this works. Is it okay being a ghost? I didn’t want you to have to be here if you don’t want to be. Or if you have unfinished business, that probably isn’t pleasant. I just don’t want you to be unhappy,” Arthur sighed. He felt like he was screwing all this up.

“Arthur, darling,” Eames said gently, “I’m not unhappy being a ghost. I’ve been a great deal happier since you moved in, and happier still since last night. I don’t know why I became a ghost. I didn’t have any particular unfinished business, other than a general sense that I was missing something. I’m beginning to suspect that I was waiting for you.” Eames looked away.

“For me?” Arthur said in a small voice. Eames nodded solemnly. “So how does this work?” Arthur asked. 

“How does what work?” Eames responded.

“Dating a ghost.” Arthur grinned. “I’ve never had a ghost boyfriend before.” 

“Well I’ve never been a ghost boyfriend before, darling, so I suppose it works however we’d like it to. And is boyfriend really the word you use?” Eames made a face. 

“I know, there’s not a lot of good options. Do you have something you’d prefer to be called?” 

“Can you call me your paranormal paramour?” Eames grinned. 

“Depending on how much I’ve had to drink, sure,” Arthur grinned back at the alliteration. 

“I miss alcohol,” Eames said mournfully. “And sex. While there are some definite advantages to being a ghost, being dead does make it difficult to enjoy life’s vices.”

“So... uh, sex.” Arthur said, awkwardly taking the opportunity presented by Eames’ comments. “How does that, uh, work?” 

“Darling, I thought we just went over our various range of experiences. I know you said you’d been having a dry spell, but I didn’t think you’d completely forgotten how sex works,” Eames teased gleefully.

“How does sex work _with **you**_ **,** ” Arthur tried to glare at Eames, but felt himself dimpling anyway. “I assume being insubstantial puts a fairly large damper on the activities that are available to us.” 

“Sadly, yes, darling. But don’t worry, I shan’t condemn you to a lifetime of wanking. You can still date, but I get to approve your men. And I get to watch.” Eames looked like a cat who had gotten into the cream. 

“That is going to be a fairly special experience then,” Arthur said skeptically. “And I thought that part of benefit of having a boyfriend, or _paramour_ , was that I didn’t _have_ to date anymore.”

“Well we’ve got a bit of a unique situation here, darling. I mean, I might be able to manifest long enough for you to feel me for a moment, but probably no longer than a few seconds. Certainly not long enough to get you off. It’s a bit of a sticky wicket.” 

“And that doesn’t really do anything for you, does it,” Arthur said. “I want to know how I can make you feel good too. Or whatever the equivalent is for a ghost.” 

“Well...” Eames’ voice took on a seductive tone, “I have very much enjoyed watching you pleasure yourself, darling. But that’s all been for you. Do you think you might be interested in putting on a little bit of a show for me?” 

Arthur’s breath caught in his throat as he thought about getting himself off in front of Eames. A pleasurable tingle raced down his spine as his cock hardened almost instantly. “Um, yes.” He responded, swallowing hard. “Would you, would you tell me what to do? What you want to see?”

“Ohhhh,” Eames face lit up at Arthur’s offer. “Darling, you’re brilliant. I would like that very much.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over 1000 words of Ghost Porn. :) Enjoy!

Arthur swallowed hard. “So, should we move this to the bedroom?”

“Definitely,” Eames purred. “And take your clothes off, I want you naked on the bed.” 

“As you wish,” Arthur said, thinking to himself that he was going to have to introduce Eames to a number of movies. He strode quickly into his bedroom, unbuttoning his shirt as he went. He pushed off his slacks and underwear and tossed them over the back of the chair before stripping off his shirt and climbing up onto his bed. Eames hovered over him, his eyes wide with lust. Arthur reclined back onto his pillows, slightly self-consciously. 

“Touch yourself,” Eames ordered, “Run your hands over your body.” Arthur did so, feeling goosebumps rise in the wake of his fingers. He started to move his hand toward his cock, which was already fully hard and leaking against his stomach. “No, stop, don’t touch your cock yet. If I could touch you I would tease you, make you tingle everywhere, and make you wait.” 

Arthur moaned at the thought of Eames teasing him like that, of teasing himself at Eames’ direction. His hand drifted up to his nipple and he heard a gasp from above him. “Yesssss.” Arthur smirked, enjoying Eames’ reactions; he pinched his nipple harder and felt it go straight to his cock, which forced a gasp out of his mouth. 

“Oh darling, you look so wanton for me,” Eames said admiringly, “I wish I could eat you up.” 

“Oh, god, yes,” Arthur moaned, thinking about Eames’ lips again. Even if ever feeling them on his cock was an impossibility, they were going to be frequent components of his fantasies. 

“Can you open yourself up for me, darling? Like you did the other night? Except instead of him, think of my fingers and mouth on you, think about my cock in your arse.” 

Arthur whimpered in response and reached for the lube on his bedside table. He stayed on his back this time, lifting his legs. He slicked up a finger and eased it into his ass, still a bit stretched from the other night. “Like this?” he asked, finding the sensation of being watched even hotter than he had anticipated. 

“Just like that, darling. Can you take another?” Eames’ voice dripped with lust. Arthur wished he could lick the words from his lips. 

Arthur grunted in the affirmative as he worked another finger into himself. He reveled in the slight burn. He realized that his eyes had closed as he concentrated, and opened them only to find Eames hovering directly on top of him. It was distinctly odd seeing someone covering him and not being able to feel a thing. Arthur couldn’t see Eames’ hand, but he suspected that the ghost’s finger were joining with his own, stretching him open. “Eames” Arthur moaned his want. 

“That’s it darling, you’re gorgeous. Oh I wish I could feel you stretched out around my fingers and my cock. You’re so lovely, darling. So perfect for me, Arthur.”

Arthur’s cock jumped as Eames purred his name in his delectable accent again. “Eames, please,” Arthur fucked himself desperately with his fingers, not quite able to hit his prostate, frantic with need.

“All right, you can touch your cock now,” Eames instructed as he floated a bit higher to watch Arthur, “but slowly, lightly. Don’t come yet.” 

Arthur eagerly reached for his cock with his other hand, forcing himself to hold back and obey Eames’ command not to come. He trailed his hand lightly up his cock, letting his fingertips play with the head, looking at Eames for his approval. 

“Oh, Arthur” Eames whispered, sounding completely wrecked. “Now harder, stroke yourself,” he ordered. 

Arthur readily obeyed, wrapping his hand around his cock and stroking himself slowly, groaning at how close he was. Following Eames’ directions and having him watch was incredibly arousing, Arthur felt like he finally understood the appeal of being a camboy. Except this was even better, because there was no mystery about Arthur for Eames. Eames had been living with him and watching him for months, and he still wanted Arthur. Eames wanted him. Eames _loved_ him. Arthur shuddered at the thought, almost coming, only Eames’ order not to come holding him back. “Please,” he gasped. 

“Okay, darling, I just want to try this, I’ll tell you when to come,” Eames said, drifting back down on top of Arthur, his hands directly on top of Arthur’s cock. Arthur gave himself another stroke and whimpered. “All right, now, darling, come for me.” Arthur felt a sudden tingle, like having the hair stand up on the back of his neck, except the sensation was focused on his cock. Arthur came all over himself at the rush of feeling. He finished stroking himself through his orgasm, panting hard. Eames had floated back up and looked immensely pleased with himself. 

Arthur let his legs flop down and his arms go out to the side, laying spread eagle on the bed, trying to catch his breath. “That was incredible,” he huffed. 

“It was, rather,” Eames said, his voice low and rumbly. 

“I think that might have been the best sex I’ve ever had,” Arthur continued. Eames preened a bit at that.

“It was quite enjoyable on my end as well, darling,” Eames said. “We’ll certainly have to that again.”

“That was you at the end, wasn’t it?” Arthur asked, “that was you manifesting?” 

“Yes, darling, did you like it?” Eames said, a hint of nervousness in his voice. 

“Obviously,” Arthur lazily gestured to the mess all over his stomach. “We are definitely doing that again. I wonder if there’s anything we can do to get you more energy, so that you could manifest for longer. Would you be able to feel that?”

“I don’t know, darling. I’ve never really thought about it before. Perhaps.” Eames sounded intrigued. 

“Well, something to think about,” Arthur rolled over and grabbed the tissues, wiping himself off a bit. “I should shower, but laying here is just too nice. At least I don’t have to worry about getting jizz all over you,” he grinned up at Eames. “Come snuggle with me?”

“If I could be substantial, do you think I would waste it on cuddling?” Eames grumbled as he floated down next to Arthur on the bed and wrapped his intangible arms around him. 

“Mmm, you should,” Arthur said, pulling the covers up. “Cuddling’s the best part.”

“Says the man who actually gets to have orgasms,” Eames snarked. 

“Mmm, fair point,” Arthur said sleepily. “Still, ‘snice. Wish I could feel your big strong arms around me. Like knowing you’re here though.” 

“Me too, darling, me too,” Eames whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Dating a Ghost, relationship logistics, bringing people home, and suggestions from Ariadne.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eames and Arthur start to negotiate their life together, Ariadne comes over for a visit and has some ideas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all of the wonderful people on the inception slack chat who have sprinted with me! And also to you lovely people who are commenting and kudosing! It makes my day so much better to get those AO3 emails!

“So Ariadne is coming over tonight, she apparently wants to fulfill her best friend duties by making sure you’re good enough for me,” Arthur told Eames the next morning as Arthur had his breakfast. “And also I think she’s a bit curious, since I guess she’s into this paranormal stuff but hasn’t ever gotten to actually meet a ghost before.”

“Fair enough,” Eames responded. “You did tell her she could ask me all she liked the other night. I don’t mind answering her questions, darling.”

“So what do you do during the day, while I’m at work?” Arthur asked, “How far can you go? Like could you come with me to work?”

“No, I’m pretty much limited to this side of the building,” Eames said sadly. “I don’t really do much, sometimes I’ll look around to see if anyone is doing anything interesting. Sometimes I read along with the lady two floors down. She has some delightful taste in reading materials, let me tell you. I’ve learned all _sorts_ of interesting things.” Eames waggled his eyebrows suggestively, leaving little doubt in Arthur’s mind what kind of books his neighbor was reading. “Or I can sort of sleep. It’s not really proper sleep, but it’s relaxing." 

“Do you want me to leave the TV on for you?” Arthur asked, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t want to treat Eames like a dog or a child or anything, but he didn’t want him to be bored. And it seemed like he was somewhat limited in what he could do.

“Oh!” Eames said, startled by the idea. “Yes, that would be lovely! TV is quite wonderful isn’t it? Can I choose the program? I never get to decide what to watch, I just catch bits and pieces of whatever someone else is watching.”

“Absolutely!” Arthur said, pleased that Eames liked his suggestion. “Do you want suggestions? Or is there anything you’ve enjoyed that you’ve seen some of before?”

“Can I look and see what’s on? Can you do the thing where you go back and forth to different programs?” 

“Sure, here let’s pick something.” Arthur grabbed the remote and started flipping through channels. He stopped anytime Eames made a noise of interest, moving on when he shook his head. Finally they saw Heidi Klum standing in front of a row of people telling them that they had to construct an outfit entirely from things they could purchase at the grocery store, and one of them would be the winner, and one of them would be out. 

“Oh, I have to watch this! This is amazing! This please, darling!” Eames was bobbing up and down with excitement. 

“Okay, Project Runway. There are worse reality TV shows, I guess,” Arthur said, checking the schedule for the rest of the day. “Looks like there’s a marathon on, so you’ll be able to watch the rest of the season today. Do you need anything else for while I’m gone?” 

“I think I’m perfectly sorted, darling!” Eames said gleefully, floating over to recline on the couch. “I’ll see you and Ariadne this evening then?” he asked absently, already absorbed in the television program.

Arthur laughed, “Yes, and then you two can bond over your love of Tim Gunn. Have a good day, Eames.” 

“Ta, darling!”

***

Bringing Ariadne home to interrogate Eames may have not been the best idea, Arthur thought from the inside of his bedroom. He had been shooed off so that Ari could talk to Eames privately, but now he could hear both of them laughing uproariously. 

“He’s gay, and he’s taken, Ari,” Arthur shouted from the other side of the door. 

Eames’ head, and just his head, popped through the door right after he said that. “I’m sorry, darling. We didn’t mean to forget about you. Come out and join us. I believe I’ve met whatever standards Ari has for your gentleman callers.” 

“Are you still a gentleman caller if you live in my apartment?” Arthur asked, sliding off the bed and actually opening the door.

“Is it really your apartment if Eames was here first?” Ariadne called from the other room. 

“Touché,” Arthur responded, grinning. “I’m not sure how I feel about my best friend and my boyfriend being in cahoots.”

“I’m not sure how I feel about your using the word cahoots,” Ariadne said. “But I give my official best friend seal of approval. You’ve got a good one here. Even if he too old for you.”

“I stopped aging when I died, thank you very much,” Eames said primly. 

“I know, but you were 38 when you died, that’s almost 40. You’re ooooold,” Ariadne teased.

“I think he’s perfect,” Arthur said, blushing slightly. He reached for Eames, placing his hand over the insubstantial wisp that was Eames’. “Except for being dead, of course, but that’s not insurmountable.”

“Oh yes, we were chatting about that,” Ariadne said, suddenly business-like. “I think you should put out a personal ad, see if you can get any guys who are interested in dating you and Eames, and be upfront about the whole thing.”

“What?” Arthur asked. 

“Eames and I were talking about your plan to continue dating so that you can still have sex,” Ariadne said slowly, as if Arthur were being especially clueless. 

“You told her—that?” Arthur sputtered. “I thought last night was good, why do we need someone else? I don’t want to talk about my sex life, our sex life with Ariadne.” He was now blushing furiously. 

“Darling,” Eames said, “I’m not sure why you’re so upset by this. Ariadne is clearly an adult, and was far more receptive to the idea of ghosts than you were, so I thought she might have some ideas.” He drifted around to face Arthur. “Do you really not want to try to find someone else? I love you madly, darling, but I certainly don’t mean to make you go without being touched by someone else the rest of your life. Since you’re apparently not risking prosecution anymore by trying to find a sexual partner, I thought I would enquire what the best way to go about that would be. Apparently this Internet thing makes it possible to find all sorts of people. Obviously, I want to meet him first, but I’m willing to share you with someone I approve of. And it’s not like I won’t get something out of it,” Eames leered at Arthur, causing him to blush even harder. 

“Can’t we just, I don’t know, meet someone normally?” Arthur asked. “I really hate dating. There’s a reason I wasn’t doing much of it before.” 

“Whatever you want, darling,” Eames said, reaching out to brush his hand over (well more through than over) Arthur’s face. 

“Oh!” Ariadne snapped her fingers. “I actually know a guy you might be interested in. He’s super cute, tall, dark curly hair that’s even more of an unruly mess than yours, Arthur. Great accent, he’s a British transplant like you, Eames. He’s studying how the paranormal affects technology. He’s completely brilliant, already has a Ph.D in engineering. I think you’d like him!” 

“If he’s so great, why didn’t you set me up with him before?” Arthur asked snippily. 

“He’s doing a second doctoral dissertation on how the paranormal affects technology. Please tell me that three days ago you wouldn’t have laughed him off as a crackpot,” Ariadne said wryly. 

“Okay, fair,” Arthur said with a sigh. 

“Can I give him your number the next time I see him?” Ariadne asked, looking both at Eames and Arthur for confirmation. 

“I’m in if you are, darling,” Eames drawled. “I would certainly be in favor of meeting this tall, dark, and handsome British man. And we know he won’t go completely batty at the sight of me, anyway.” 

“Sounds good,” Arthur said. “Thanks, Ari. Oh, what’s his name?”

“Quentin,” Ariadne responded. “Isn’t that just the most British thing you’ve ever heard!” 

“Topping, simply smashing, pet!” Eames grinned at Arthur, who was rolling his eyes fondly at Eames’ over-the-top reaction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The cahoots line is poorly remembered and partly stolen from I think Gilmore Girls (although it might have been The West Wing). Also, there might be a hint of a not quite crossover, but maybe just a little because I couldn't help myself


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eames and Arthur date Quentin

Arthur heard a knock on the door and hurried to go answer it, buckling his belt as he walked across the living room. He looked nervously back at Eames, who was still in the bedroom where he’d been “helping” Arthur get ready for their date tonight. Eames gave him a thumbs up and an eyebrow waggle and then went fully transparent. Arthur took a deep breath and opened the door, to see an attractive bespectacled man with striking green eyes and messy dark hair. He had his hand raised as if he were about to knock on the door again. He looked slightly startled as the door opened, but quickly extended his hand to shake Arthur’s and said, “Hello, I’m Quentin, you must be Arthur?” 

“Yes, hi, I’m Arthur,” Arthur responded awkwardly. He shook Quentin’s hand and motioned for him to come into the apartment. “So, um, I’m not sure how much Ariadne told you about this?” He looked up expectantly at Quentin, hoping he would fill in what he knew. 

“Right, um, Ari said something about it being a bit odd, and that I’d be interested to meet you even if I didn’t want to date you. I must say, I was intrigued.” Quentin smiled shyly back at Arthur. “Although I’m not sure why I wouldn’t want to date you. I’m quite put out that Ari’s been keeping you from me.” 

“Okay, well, so...” Arthur rubbed his palms nervously on his jeans. “So here’s the thing. I already have a boyfriend, but he is encouraging me to see other people as well, because.... he’s a ghost.”

“I’m sorry, what?” 

“I’m currently in a relationship with a ghost, but it’s an open relationship, I guess you would say, because he thinks that it would be good for me to also have a physical, living partner as well. But he wants to meet and approve any potential partners first, which is why I wanted you to meet me here at my apartment. He can’t really go anywhere else.” Arthur laughed nervously. 

“You’re in a relationship. With a ghost.” Quentin looked critically at Arthur, as if he thought he had a screw loose. “Um, okay then.” 

“Yes, petal, that would be me.” Eames suddenly re-materialized next to Arthur, right in front of Quentin. 

Quentin’s eyes went wide and he stepped backwards. “Oh my. You have a ghost.”

“I’m not a dog,” Eames said, clearly offended.

“I don’t _have_ a ghost,” Arthur jumped in quickly, “Eames is my boyfriend and he also lives here. He lived here first, in fact.” Arthur gave Eames a half smile, one of his dimples peeking out. 

“I don’t... I’m not sure I understand,” Quentin said, still wide eyed, his voice quivering. 

“It’s really very simple, kitten: my darling Arthur is alive, and as much as I love him, I am nearly constantly incorporeal, so there are certain, ahem, needs I can’t properly meet. And as much as I adore him, I don’t want him to be stuck in his apartment with me all the time. He still needs to be able to get out and experience life. But I’m dreadfully selfish, and I can’t possibly give him up, so it seemed like a good compromise to have him date other living people. I get to meet them first and give my approval though, because I’m his _primary partner_.” Eames sounded very proud of himself as he finished his explanation. 

“Sorry, Ariadne has been showing him the internet and he’s been having her post questions on poly forums,” Arthur rolled his eyes affectionately. “And even though we’ve _had_ this discussion, and I’m very happy with our relationship, _Eames_ , there are obviously some things that are a bit different when your boyfriend is incorporeal, so I thought it was worth exploring at least.” 

“Okay.” Quentin took a deep breath as he processed all of the information he was just given. “When you say you’re ‘nearly constantly incorporeal’ what do you mean by that? You’re not _always_ incorporeal? Can you control when you’re corporeal? Under what circumstances?” 

Eames laughed. “Oh, I like him! He’ll suit you quite well, darling. Very well, you have my approval. Go off and have your supper and then you can come back and play scientist.” 

*** 

The whole dating thing was going reasonably well, Arthur thought to himself. He liked Quentin. It wasn’t the instant connection he felt with Eames, but he was attractive, and interesting, and he liked Eames. And Eames liked him, which was possibly the most important factor in this whole endeavor. They were having their fourth date tonight, and instead of going out, they were staying in, at Arthur’s suggestion, so that Eames could be with them the whole time. Eames had been a good sport about the whole ‘going out on dates’ thing, ushering them out the door to dinner and then visiting with them when they got back, but Arthur missed him. He missed his puns and innuendo and his excitement over learning about the modern day things that he’d seen throughout his afterlife, but that no one had actually explained to him. So they were ordering Indian food and watching a movie and then maybe (as Eames had put it) they might play doctor instead of scientist that evening. 

Arthur was digging through his take out drawer looking for the Indian restaurant menu when Eames drifted in quickly from the other side of the door. 

“Quentin’s here, darling, he says to open the door.” 

“It’s unlocked, tell him he can just come in,” Arthur responded. Eames floated back to the door to relay Arthur’s invitation. The door opened and Quentin walked in. 

“Hallooo,” he called. 

“In here,” Arthur said, still bent over the drawer. Suddenly he pulled out the take-out menu and proclaimed, “ah ha!” He walked over to Quentin and gave him a kiss. “Hi.” 

“I missed you,” Quentin said, kissing him back. “I missed you too, Eames,” he said, looking around until he saw Eames’ shimmer in the air. “So what’s the plan for this evening?” 

“Indian take-out for dinner, and a movie or two for entertainment. I picked out a few that I thought we might enjoy introducing Eames to,” Arthur responded.

“Oh, lovely,” Quentin responded, “I love a good curry. What’s good from here?” he asked, taking the menu out of Arthur’s hand.

“The saag paneer is my favorite, but the aloo gobi is also excellent--” Arthur started. 

“More like alBOO gobi,” Eames cut in. Arthur and Quentin stared at Eames, who was laughing so hard at his own joke that he was going in and out of focus. Arthur rolled his eyes fondly before looking back at Quentin. 

“Why don’t we just get both of those and some garlic naan,” Quentin returned to the conversation at hand. 

“Sounds good, I’ll put in the order, why don’t you and Eames look at our movie options?” Arthur motioned over to the coffee table where a variety of DVDs were laid out. 

They decided on _Dirty Dancing_ , after Eames had declared _Ghost_ too “on the nose” (“This from the man who thought ‘alBOO gobi’ was the joke of the century,” Arthur teased), and Quentin had vetoed _Fellowship of the Ring_ on the grounds of length. 

The food arrived and was delicious, as Eames expressed his regret that he couldn’t taste food anymore. Eames was fascinated by the movie, and kept jumping into Arthur’s arms afterward. Of course, being insubstantial, he continued to go through him, ending up impaled around Arthur’s knees. 

Quentin looked up from checking the messages on his phone, which had been on silent during the movie, and laughed at their antics. “You’re adorable,” he said, as he came over to kiss Arthur. 

“Everything all right?” Arthur asked, as he’d noticed Quentin’s slight frown while looking at his phone. 

“There’s been a bit of a catastrophe at work, so I have to head back to London first thing tomorrow,” he said reluctantly. 

“But aren’t you working on a degree here? Can you just leave in the middle of the semester like that?” Arthur asked, confused. 

“Yes, well, I was on leave for that, but it seems that something rather dramatic has happened, so I have to pop back and take care of it. Arthur, Eames, I’m terribly sorry, but I’m not sure when I’m going to be back, and I know I won’t have any time to talk once I’m there. I hate to leave it like this, but I think that might be for the best,” Quentin said sadly, as he started toward the door. 

“Hey,” Arthur said, cupping his face, “you don’t have to leave till tomorrow, right? We can still have tonight.” 

“I suppose so,” Quentin said, twisting his hands. “Are you sure that won’t make it harder?” 

Eames, ignoring the obvious joke for once, said, “Kitten, if there’s one thing I’ve learned from my afterlife, it’s that you shouldn’t give up on things because you think they might be difficult, or might hurt. I like you quite a lot, and I know Arthur does too. We’ve had a lot of fun getting to know you, and I’d hate to end that prematurely.” 

“I understand if you don’t want to try to do long distance with all the uncertainty, but I’d really like it,” Arthur looked up at Eames, who nodded, “we’d really like it, if we got to spend one last night with you.” 

Quentin looked at Eames and then back at Arthur and then nodded resolutely. “I’d like that too. And when else am I going to have a chance to have sex with a ghost,” he laughed somewhat nervously. 

“Oh, I see how it is,” Eames smirked, “you just want me for my non-body.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous, I also love your spirit,” Quentin teased back. 

Arthur rolled his eyes. “You are both ridiculous and now I’m questioning my decision to have sex with either one of you.”

“You know you love it, darling,” Eames said, pouting slightly. 

“No, I love you, I simply put up with your terrible puns.” Arthur rolled his eyes even harder. 

“Q, my dewdrop, we’re being merely tolerated. Shall we start without him?” 

Quentin froze and looked alarmed at Eames’ impromptu abbreviation of his name. “Uh, um,” he stuttered. 

“Ah, that’s how it is. I thought it might be. Well, then, _Quentin_ , my dewdrop, shall we retire to the bedroom and see if our darling Arthur sees fit to join us?” Eames continued smoothly. 

“Uh, yes, indeed,” Quentin stammered and followed Eames into the bedroom. 

“Oh, I’m coming,” Arthur said, as he followed them. 

“Not yet, but you will be.” Eames turned around to smirk and waggle his eyebrows. 

“Oh my god,” Arthur groaned, “you’re _terrible_.” 

After a certain amount of fumbling over clothes and positions, Arthur was lying naked on his back while Eames offered Quentin suggestions for what to do to him. And Quentin was enthusiastically taking them, which meant he was delicately lapping up the precome leaking from the head of Arthur’s cock, and occasionally stopping to describe the taste to Eames. Arthur had been ordered to hold the bedrail and not let go, which meant that he couldn’t dig his fingers into Quentin’s gorgeous hair and encourage him to stop teasing. 

“Now run your hands lightly up his chest. Give his nipples a little pinch, just like that kitten. Lovely,” Eames instructed. 

Arthur shivered slightly at the slight contact. He was completely on edge, after only the lightest of touches, just listening to Eames direct Quentin on how best to torture him. He felt Quentin’s hard cock barely brush against his, as Quentin worked his way up Arthur’s body. His own cock jumped in response and he felt his blood pound. “Oh god,” Arthur moaned. 

“Did you have something to add, darling?” Eames looked at Arthur, his arms stretched out above his head, holding tight to the bedframe. 

“I’m so close,” Arthur moaned again, closing his eyes. 

“Already, darling? You must learn to control yourself.” Arthur could hear the smirk in Eames’ voice, even with his eyes closed. “What would you like, kitten? Do you want to let Arthur come already? Or would you like to come first? Perhaps you’d like him to suck you?” 

“Oh, yes,” Quentin said reverently, moving all the way up Arthur’s body. 

“Open up, darling,” Eames ordered. Arthur obeyed, opening both his eyes and his mouth, and was treated to the sight of Quentin above him, ready to feed his hard cock into Arthur’s mouth. Arthur licked his lips and opened wider, enjoying the weight on his tongue as he took in as much as he could. He tried to suck, but at this particular angle he couldn’t do much other than provide a warm and wet orifice. Quentin realized this and moved his hips forward slightly before looking down at Arthur and then up at Eames, questioningly. 

“I suppose you’ll have to fuck his mouth,” Eames said thoughtfully, as if it hadn’t been his plan all along. Arthur’s eyes grew wide, he wasn’t really used to this, but it suddenly sounded like a brilliant idea. Quentin’s smile grew slightly more predatory as he twisted a hand into Arthur’s hair and began moving his hips, thrusting into Arthur’s waiting mouth. 

Eames hovered over them, moving to watch them from different angles.

“You weren’t kidding about wanting to watch, were you,” Quentin said to Eames.

“Hmm, no. And darling, if Quentin is able to talk, I’m not sure you’re doing your job properly,” Eames lightly scolded Arthur. Arthur hummed a noise of protest, which also had the effect of making Quentin groan with pleasure. “Much better, darling,” Eames praised Arthur. “You’re absolutely gorgeous with a cock in your mouth, do you know that?” 

Arthur hummed again, causing Quentin to buck his hips fiercely, thrusting harder into Arthur’s mouth. Arthur’s eyes watered as Quentin’s cock hit the back of his throat. He sucked in a breath through his nose and then swallowed. 

“Darling, you’re being so good for us, isn’t he, Quentin?” Eames purred. Quentin’s only answer was a moan as he continued fucking Arthur’s welcoming mouth. Arthur felt his balls tightening, and he longed to get a hand on himself, to finish himself off, but that would require letting go. Eames had told him not to let go, so he didn’t. Arthur moaned again, trying to express how much he wanted, needed to come. Eames smiled down at him, his eyes wicked with delight. 

“Let’s see if this works, I’ve been practicing,” Eames said as he floated down behind Quentin. Arthur couldn’t see what he was doing, but all of a sudden he felt a tingling and tightness around his cock. He groaned as he came, hard. Quentin all of a sudden pulled back from his mouth and began stroking his own cock quickly until he came all Arthur’s face and mouth. Arthur stuck out his tongue and licked the come off his lips. Quentin shuddered at the sight. “Sweet Jesus, how are you even real,” he asked under his breath. 

“Good?” Eames asked smugly. 

“Dear god, yes. That may have been the hottest sex I’ve ever had. I’m desperately regretting having to leave now.” Quentin took a deep breath and swung his leg over Arthur so he could lie next to him. Arthur let go of the bed frame, stretching his fingers, which had gone stiff from holding it so long. 

“That was you?” Arthur croaked, his throat sore. He was looking up at Eames, who looked even more smug if that were possible.

“Yes, darling, I’ve been practicing!” Eames said proudly. “Although, it still doesn’t really feel like anything to me,” he said, sadness layering over his pride. 

“Oh,” Arthur responded, sad on Eames’ behalf. He reached up and felt the drying mess on his face and said “I’d better wash up.” He stretched out as he forced himself off the bed, walking over toward Eames to make the motion of a caress against the side of his incorporeal face. 

Arthur was back within a few moments, his face wet from the quick wash, carrying another wet washcloth for Quentin and a towel to put down over the wet spot he’d left on the bed. He flopped back down on the bed and curled toward Quentin, before motioning Eames over with a nod of his head. 

“I’ll miss you,” Arthur said, pulling the sheet over them. Eames floated over and lay down on the other side of Arthur, hovering slightly over the bed. 

“We’ll miss you,” Eames corrected. 

“I’ll miss you too,” Quentin said, snuggling into Arthur’s arms, “and not just because of the amazing sex.”

“Well that’s good, seeing as you were dating us for almost a month before we even got to the amazing sex part,” Arthur said sleepily. 

“Mm, yes, terrible oversight on my part,” Quentin murmured. “I should get up. I should go pack.” 

“Or you could stay a little longer. Eames will wake us up.”

“Oi, why is that my job?” Eames asked tartly. 

“You’re a ghost, you’re not going to fall asleep,” Arthur said. “And I know you know how to mess with my alarm, so just do that if you want.” 

“Wait, he can set your alarm?” Quentin was suddenly more awake. 

“I’ll tell you about it in the morning,” Arthur yawned, his eyes already closed. 

“Oh go on and sleep, darlings, I’ll get you up in a few hours,” Eames said fondly. 

Arthur smiled as he cuddled closer to Quentin on his front, and knew that Eames was curled around his back, even if he couldn’t feel him at the moment. He gave into his exhaustion and drifted off to sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur and Eames settle into a comfortable routine, until they have a chance meeting with someone new who has the potential to change their lives.

With Quentin’s departure, Arthur and Eames fell into an easy rhythm. Arthur went to work in the morning, leaving some sort of entertainment on for Eames, TV, or radio, or audio books, or sometimes even porn (those nights Eames was usually bursting with things he wanted Arthur to try for him). In the evenings, Arthur came home and they talked, and then Arthur continued introducing Eames to his favorite movies and TV shows, or they read Arthur’s favorite books together. And at night they experimented. Arthur fully enjoyed all of the permutations of sexual activity that Eames came up with, and with enough concentration, Eames was able to manifest for a few moments at least. Sadly, even when Arthur could feel him, he still couldn’t feel Arthur. They were enjoying their quiet, if slightly odd, domesticity.

“So what’s on the docket for tonight?” Eames asked Arthur as he sorted through delivery menus.

“I was thinking of trying a new place, they’re supposed to have really good falafel. Do you want to keep watching Marvel movies? I think _The Winter Soldier_ was up next.” 

“That sounds lovely, darling. You know me, I’m always up for dishy men in spandex,” Eames responded. 

They settled in to start the movie while they waited for Arthur’s food to arrive. Eames had been greatly enjoying the Marvel Cinematic Universe, although he still had trouble keeping track of which technology was real and which was made up (although to be fair, sometimes Arthur wasn’t sure of the answer for some of the tech either). When the doorbell rang, Arthur hopped up and paused the movie, and Eames went invisible, so as to not disturb the delivery person.

Arthur opened the door and saw an attractive man about his age with sandy hair and piercing blue eyes holding up a delivery bag. “Are you Arthur? Hummus, pita, and falafel?”

“Yep, that’s me. How much do I owe you?” Arthur asked, pulling out his wallet.

“Fifteen even.”

Arthur handed over a twenty and said, “keep the change,” with a smile, and started to close the door. The delivery man stuck his hand out suddenly to stop him. 

“Wait, I’m sorry, this is going to sound really odd, but, um, have you noticed any strange things happening here recently? Lights going on and off? Weird sounds? Cold spots?” the delivery man asked urgently. 

“Um, what?” Arthur asked, confused. 

“I’m sorry, I know this sounds crazy, but I’m not crazy, I promise. I’m pretty sure that your apartment is haunted. I’m a medium, and the spiritual energy I’m sensing here is some of the highest I’ve ever felt. I don’t know if you even believe in ghosts, but you have to have noticed odd things happening here. If you want, if you don’t mind, I can try to summon and exorcise the ghost. I’m sorry, I know this sounds crazy,” the delivery man was wringing his hands by this point, “but I can’t just leave without offering to help.” 

Arthur began to smile as he realized what he was saying, the full force of his dimples unleashed on the attractive delivery man-slash-medium standing at his door. 

“Yes my apartment is haunted, but I’d be very upset if you exorcised him,” Arthur said, still smiling, “seeing as I’m currently dating him.” 

“What?” the man asked, sounding exceedingly confused. 

“And you don’t have to summon me, pet, you just have to ask nicely,” Eames said as he appeared next to Arthur.

“Whoa!” He took a sudden step back. Arthur merely smiled wider, but Eames burst out laughing. 

“You should see your face!” Eames giggled. 

“Oh Eames, you’re terrible,” Arthur waved a hand at him. “But yeah, you should see your face. I’m sorry, do you have another delivery to make or do you want to sit down for a minute.” 

“Uh, yeah, that sounds good.”

“So, hi, I’m Arthur and you met Eames,” Arthur motioned to Eames, who performed an elaborate (and ridiculous) looking bow as he floated over toward the kitchen. Arthur followed him and got a glass of water and brought it over to their guest, who was taking a seat at the kitchen table. 

“Thanks,” he said, taking a long drink of water. “I’m Robert.” 

“So, what is a medium doing delivering falafel, Robert?” Arthur asked. “Specifically, why did you end up delivering _our_ falafel? Do you encounter a lot of ghosts on your delivery runs?” Arthur had set joking aside and was being significantly more serious now. He was concerned about the “randomness” of such an encounter. And if Robert, or anyone, actually had the power to exorcise Eames, he wanted to be able to protect him. 

“More than you’d think, actually. I seem to get called to places where I’m needed, so being a delivery driver is a fairly convenient job for that. I work for my friend Yusuf, and he knows what I do, so he expects that sometimes I’ll be gone for a little while,” Robert explained. 

“So you just _happen_ to show up at houses with ghosts?” Arthur said skeptically. 

“Pretty much, yeah. And then usually end up giving some version of the talk I gave you,” Robert said, shrugging his shoulders. 

“How well does that work for you?” Arthur asked, rolling his eyes, as he remembered the incredibly strange and awkward way Robert had brought up the subject. 

“Not great,” Robert said ruefully. “Yusuf says I need to work on my people skills, but I’m not really sure how to work on telling people ‘hey, you might be haunted, but it turns out that I can fix that for you,’ y’know?” 

“How much do you usually charge for an exorcism? I assume people think you’re running a scam or something. I mean, if I didn’t already know about Eames I probably would have thought you were crazy or a con man.” 

“Oh, it’s not like that, not at all. Part of being a medium is that I can help ghosts move on to the other side. That’s really all I’m trying to do. A lot of times, even if the ghost isn’t causing trouble on purpose, people will still notice something that’s off. Because a ghost is a disturbance in the natural order. They _want_ to be able to move on. They’re stuck here,” Robert said. His eyes brightened as he passionately explained his life’s calling. 

“Well excuse you,” Eames said, clearly miffed. 

“What?” Robert asked, confused at his tone. 

“I’m not a ‘disturbance in the natural order,’ or any thing of the sort. And I was called unnatural my whole life, I’ll not stand for it in my afterlife.” 

“It’s okay, love, it’s okay, I’m sure he didn’t mean it like that,” Arthur said soothingly, reaching over toward Eames. He carefully placed his and over Eames’ hand, holding it up as if he could feel Eames’ underneath. “Did you?” he said more sharply, directed at Robert.

“I mean, so far in my experience, yes,” Robert said somewhat helplessly. “A ghost is the spirit of someone who couldn’t move on after death. As a medium I can speak with them and for them and help them move on. And if they won’t or can’t, then I can exorcise them if necessary. I’ve never encountered a situation like this. I’ve never even heard of a situation like this.” Robert spread his hands open. 

“Well, I don’t have any unfinished business, and I can speak for myself just fine, and I will move on when Arthur does and I don’t need anyone telling me I should go sooner,” Eames said, his voice steely with anger. 

“Eames, it’s okay, I’m not going to let him exorcise you or do anything to take you away from me. I promise, you’re safe,” Arthur said comfortingly. He continued to rub his hand over Eames’ and looked at him in shock. “Are you doing that on purpose?” 

“Doing what, darling?” Eames looked curiously at Arthur, whose hand had suddenly dropped through his onto the table. 

“You were corporeal there for just a few seconds. I could feel your hand. I was resting mine on top of it. But you weren’t doing it on purpose?” Arthur gave Eames a piercing look.

“No.” Eames shook his head. “I didn’t even realize I was doing it, still couldn’t feel anything, love.” 

“Um, sorry to cut in here, but it seemed like you were angry just then, Eames, right?” Robert said hesitantly. “When ghosts feel extreme emotions they are better able to manifest and influence things around them. That’s why angry ghosts are the most dangerous.” 

Arthur and Eames both stared at Robert wonderingly.

“Have you been able to do that before, Eames? Become corporeal?” Robert pressed on, emboldened by their silence. 

“Yes, but only briefly,” Eames said slowly, carefully considering each word. 

“What were you doing and feeling then? Were you angry at those times?” Robert asked. 

“No, quite the opposite,” Eames leered slightly at Arthur, who felt a blush staining his cheeks. 

“What do you mean the opposite?” Robert asked, confused. “You were happy?” 

“Blissfully so, one might even say I was gay,” Eames waggled his eyebrows at Arthur again. 

“What do you—oh, OH!” Robert said, suddenly realizing what Eames was insinuating. 

“I said we were dating,” Arthur said from behind his hands.

“Yes, yes, you did say that didn’t you. I’m sorry, I... I’m not quite sure how to process this. So you’re saying Eames can become corporeal while you, are, um, intimate?” Robert looked nearly as embarrassed as Arthur. Eames, of course, was looking more and more smug, as he drifted higher above where they were sitting. 

Arthur, now beet red, glared up at Eames. “You started this conversation, you explain it to him. I’ll just be dying of embarrassment over here because we’re discussing our sex life with the person who delivered our dinner.” 

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, darling,” Eames grinned down at Arthur. “Anyway, yes, I can manifest briefly, less than a minute really, while being intimate with Arthur. I’ve been trying to practice and I’ve been able to increase my control a bit, although it’s all still quite fleeting. It’s usually enough though.” Eames leered over at Arthur again, who felt like he would really like it if he could become incorporeal at that particular moment. 

“Well, I suppose that would be a moment of extreme emotion,” Robert said thoughtfully, his curiosity overriding his embarrassment. 

“Unfortunately, I can’t feel anything, even if Arthur can,” Eames said wistfully. 

“Hmm, well, I don’t actually know how common that is. Normally the angry ones don’t want to have much of a chat with me. The sad ones can do it too, but they’re usually quite focused on trying to finish their unfinished business so they can move on.” 

“Well you’ve got more information than I do,” Eames said, “I’ve never met another ghost. Apparently this apartment building doesn’t have an excess of traumatic or unexpected deaths. Besides mine of course.” 

“How _did_ you die,” Robert asked, “Is that related to the reason you went ghost instead of moving on, do you think?” 

“I’m not entirely sure. I went to bed one night, and when I woke up, my body didn’t come with me. I suspect foul play, probably poison of some sort. It was the 40s, there wasn’t much by way of forensics at the time,” Eames shrugged. “Such is the life of a spy.” 

“Wait, you were a _spy_?” Arthur asked, slightly outraged. “You didn’t tell me that!” 

“Oh, did I not mention that? Oh well, I didn’t want to run afoul of our dear Quentin,” Eames said innocently. 

“Wait, what does that even mean? What does Quentin have to do with this? You told him, but not me?”

Robert watched them bicker back and forth for a few minutes. They sounded like an old married couple, which made the dating thing seem a lot more real. 

“I think this is probably not a conversation to be having right this moment, darling,” Eames said, “little pitchers have big ears.”

“Okay then, well, I’ll take you at your word that neither of you are interested in my services as exorcist at the moment, so I should get back. But I would really love to talk with you more about what you’re able to do, your limits, that sort of thing,” Robert said as he stood up. 

“All these dishy men and all they want to do is ask me questions and run tests,” Eames sighed dramatically. “Yourself excepted, darling,” he added as Arthur opened his mouth to protest. 

“Um...that’s not what I meant to—I’m sorry?” Robert fumbled an explanation into an apology, although he obviously wasn’t quite sure what he was apologizing for. 

“Don’t mind him, he’s just a drama queen,” Arthur said, waving his hand, still slightly miffed at Eames. “Do you have a card or something?” 

“Uh, no, I guess, I probably should, shouldn’t I,” Robert said. 

“Might be a good idea if you’re trying to promote your services as a medium. Anyway, take one of mine and give me a call if you want to come over and talk to Eames. We’d love to pick your brain as well, since neither of us knows much about this whole ghost thing beyond our own personal experiences,” Arthur said smoothly, pulling a card out of his wallet and handing it over to Robert.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're coming in on the home stretch! It's taken longer than expected since this fun little thing I was going to write for Halloween turned into something a bit more substantial. But I've been enjoying it and I hope you have too!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur and Eames get to know Robert better. Aka sexy-times ensue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the long wait between chapters! Life has been interfering quite a bit and was making it dreadfully hard to write. But I seem to be going along again. You may have noticed that the chapter count increased. It turns out that the Robert story-line has a bit more to it than I originally anticipated and my chapters were already getting longer than I like, so we're going to get another chapter and then a bit of an epilogue to finish it off. Thanks for reading and sticking with me!

“Okay, can you try again?” Robert asked Eames. Robert had eagerly accepted Arthur’s invitation to come back and talk to Eames. They had spent the last several hours exploring the limits of Eames’ ability to manifest.

“Ugh, I’m sorry, I’m tapped, pet.” 

“Why don’t we take a break then,” Arthur said, bringing over a bottle of wine and two glasses. 

“Sorry, it’s just very exciting to be able to work with a ghost to study these things. I’d never really even thought to try to study these things, honestly,” Robert said apologetically as he accepted a glass. 

Eames waved him off and floated over to the chair Arthur had pulled out for him. “No worries, pet.” 

“So how did you become a medium anyway?” Arthur asked, opening the wine and pouring it for them. 

“I didn’t really become one, it’s just something I’ve always been. Most kids talk about friends that only they can see, but most kids grow out of it, and stop seeing them. I started seeing more of them. And they started talking to me more.” 

“Oh my god,” Arthur gasped, “how horrible.” 

“It wasn’t as bad as a kid, most ghosts still treat kids like kids, the ones that are still sane. You wouldn’t go around hassling a kid would you, Eames?” 

“No, of course not,” Eames said. 

“And it wasn’t like there were tons of them, just a few that I saw at the same places,” Robert continued. “But when I got older, they started asking me for help. I didn’t know what I was doing, of course, but I figured it out. I can serve as a conduit between our world and whatever is beyond. So ghosts can speak to me, and I can try to help them with their unfinished business, or just help them move out of our plane of existence. It generally works better if that’s what they want also, but I can forcibly exorcise ghosts that are causing trouble or hurting people.” 

“So are you from around here originally, or are you a transplant as well? I’m from Ohio originally, I went to college in Boston and then grad school out in California. And then I moved here for work. Eames is British, obviously.”

“I’m a transplant also. I was at boarding school for most of my schooling, my father was extremely busy and after my mom died, it was difficult for him to handle my education. I was supposed to go to college and then come work for my father’s business. I went to college like I was supposed to, but I just couldn’t spend my life cooped up in an office building when I knew I had another calling. So I moved here. My friend Yusuf, who I met in college, owns his own restaurant, which you already know about. He let me crash with him after my dad threw me out and gave me a job. I’ve been working with him for a few years now. That’s how I find most of my ghosts.”

“Wait you’ve been doing this for several _years_ and that’s how bad your opening approach is?” Arthur asked, incredulously. 

“Well, I’m better with ghosts than with people,” Robert laughed awkwardly. 

“Really, announcing that you’d like to exorcise someone generally gets them on your good side?” Eames said skeptically. 

“It actually really does,” Robert said earnestly. “Most ghosts _want_ to move on. You really have no idea how special you are, Eames.”

Eames preened a bit at the compliment, and Arthur rolled his eyes.

“He’s well aware of his specialness,” Arthur said fondly, “you’ll give him a big head.” 

“I love you too, darling,” Eames smirked at Arthur.

Robert looked at them wonderingly. “I’m still not entirely sure about the whole dating a ghost thing, but I have to say, I’ve rarely seen a couple quite as compatible as the two of you. It’s rather mind boggling, honestly.” 

Eames smiled. “You had asked about my unfinished business before. Well, I didn’t have any unfinished business, not that I knew of. I didn’t know why I was a ghost. I just had a sense that I was missing something, that I was waiting for something. Well, that something was Arthur. I couldn’t move on, because I hadn’t met Arthur. He hadn’t even been born yet. So if I was to meet him it would have been either as a very old man, or as a ghost, apparently. Particularly since I hadn’t figured out the Dorian Gray magical portrait trick to immortality.”

Arthur smiled back at him. He could feel his dimples in full force, and wondered if the ridiculously sappy feelings he was having showed on his face. Judging by Eames’s similarly saccharine expression, he assumed they did. Eames floated over and put his hands on either side of Arthur’s face, before pressing his lips to Arthur’s. For just a moment, Arthur felt soft lips brush against his before the sensation disappeared. He lifted his own hand to cup behind Eames’ head, closing his eyes for just a second, saving and treasuring the moment of touch. 

“I thought you were tapped,” Arthur said softly. 

“Strong emotion, like he said,” Eames responded. He sounded out of breath, if a ghost could be out of breath. 

“Okay, well, then, I should...” Robert stood up awkwardly, knocking his chair over. “Sorry, I should give you some privacy, but thank you for the tests, I mean for letting me run the tests, sorry, I’ll just go, then, now, I mean.”

Arthur was still looking into Eames’ eyes and he saw the question in them as Robert awkwardly tried to gather his things. He gave a slight nod and then turned to Robert. 

“Or you could stay, if you wanted,” Arthur said. 

“I’m sorry, what?” Robert asked, his blue eyes wide as he looked between Arthur and Eames. 

“You could stay if you’d like to, pet. I know I’d like you to. And it would please Arthur.” Eames said, his voice low and seductive. 

“But, you’re...” Robert looked at Arthur, confused.

“I suppose we didn’t ever end up properly explaining. I love Eames, but he gets concerned that he can’t meet all of my physical needs, being incorporeal and all. So sometimes, with his approval, I can get help meeting those needs--”

“I like for Arthur to be able to have sex with living men sometimes while I watch.” Eames cut in. “Really, darling, if you beat around the bush any longer, he was just going run off.”

“You want me to have sex with Arthur?” Robert asked. “I mean, Arthur, you want to have sex with me?”

“I’d like you to have sex with _us_ ,” Arthur corrected gently. “Eames is still very much a part of it, even if he can’t physically participate much.” 

Robert gulped. “I didn’t realize, I didn’t think, um,” he babbled.

Eames smiled at Robert. “Yes, the thought of sex with Arthur often robs me of my words also.” 

Arthur rolled his eyes at Eames and walked over to Robert, putting his hands on his shoulders. “Hey, it’s okay. You can say no if you want. No hard feelings. You can still come over and run tests with Eames and ask him all sorts of questions. We'll still be friends. But if you’re interested, we’re definitely interested.” Arthur smiled at Robert, giving him just a hint of his dimples.

Robert blushed. “So, if I were interested...” 

“If you were interested, you might give him a kiss,” Eames said slyly, floating around to whisper into Robert’s ear.

Robert blushed again and tried to step forward toward Arthur, but he suddenly tripped and lost his balance, falling directly into Arthur’s arms. Arthur managed to catch him, although it was more awkward than romantic. 

“You’re not actually helping, Eames,” Arthur growled, as he helped Robert regain his balance. 

Robert laughed. “No, I think he is.” And he took Arthurs face in his hands and gently pressed his lips against Arthur’s. 

Arthur returned the gentle kiss, before running his tongue along the seam of Robert’s lips, requesting entrance. Robert eagerly acquiesced, accepting Arthur’s tongue into his mouth, tangling it with his own. Robert was no longer nearly shy, as he desperately kissed Arthur, sucking on his lower lip before diving back into his welcoming mouth.

“So yes, you’re interested?” Arthur gasped out as he pulled off long enough to breathe.

“Oh yes,” Robert said, giving Arthur several short kisses on his lips before moving to kiss his neck. 

“Bedroom,” Arthur ordered, pulling away slightly to lead Robert toward his bedroom. Eames followed along, smirking at Arthur over Robert’s head. Robert followed along, chasing Arthur’s lips. Arthur unbuttoned his shirt and took it off before breaking away to pull Robert’s shirt over his head. Robert pressed Arthur down onto the bed and continued kissing him frantically, his earlier shyness completely gone. Arthur grabbed Robert’s ass and ground his hips up against the younger man’s. Robert eagerly pushed back and Arthur could feel how hard Robert had become. Robert began trying to push Arthur’s pants down his hips, stymied by his belt. 

Eames chuckled at their clumsy and frantic groping. “While this is all exceedingly hot, my darlings, and oh, **_it is_** , perhaps you might be a little more successful if you slowed down just a bit. At least in terms of getting your clothes off.”

Arthur pulled back from the kiss at Eames’ words, took a breath, and then efficiently divested himself of the rest of his clothing. Robert followed suit and then they were both naked and looking at Eames.

Eames leered approvingly at them. “Well done, pets. Now carry on, I was enjoying the show immensely.”

Arthur pulled Robert back down on top of him and began kissing him enthusiastically again, grabbing two handfuls of his gorgeous ass so that he could frot against him. 

Robert shuddered. “God, Arthur, I’m not going to last if you keep doing that.”

“I know, I just...” Arthur gasped out as he pulled Robert closer and began thrusting more frantically, desperate for the exquisite friction of Robert’s perfect body. Arthur suddenly realized how much he needed this, needed this contact, a hot body pressed against his, their blood pounding together. Eames knew that; Eames gave him this. Arthur looked up at Eames, who was watching them with a combination of joy and lust and longing. Eames caught Arthur looking and gave him an approving eyebrow waggle, which was enough for Arthur. He groaned as he spilled between their bodies in a hot wet rush surge. 

“Fuuuuck,” Robert gasped as his hands grabbed onto Arthur’s hips. He rubbed himself frantically against Arthur, chasing his own orgasm. Arthur whimpered as the friction increased on his overstimulated cock.

Eames floated down to whisper in Arthur’s ear. “Do you like that, darling? We haven’t played much with pushing you past your limits in this direction. You look simply gorgeous like this, squirming under Robert as he takes his pleasure. You’re always so sensitive after you come, what is all this increased attention doing to you, I wonder. It feels good, doesn’t it, but on that line between pleasure and pain, where it’s too much, but you don’t want it to stop. Do you think you can come again for me when Robert does? He must be close, pressed up against your gorgeous body, watching you lose control underneath him. Are you close, pet?” Eames directed that last comment up at Robert. 

“Oh god, yes,” Robert moaned. 

“Back up a little, get a hand around both of your cocks,” Eames instructed. “You too, Arthur. Hold yourselves together.” 

Arthur moaned as he obeyed, his sensitive prick still rock hard from the overstimulation. He held them together at the base of their cocks, letting Robert move his hand up and down over them. Arthur felt tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes, overwhelmed by the sensations. 

“Perfect, darlings. My god, you are gorgeous for me,” Eames said admiringly. “Now, go ahead pet, finish yourself off. Arthur is going to come again for us when you do.” 

Robert held himself up with one arm and obediently started thrusting into both of their hands, pulling Arthur along for the ride. All of a sudden, a third hand was wrapped around them its thumb caressing the tops of their pricks. That was enough for Arthur, who came again as he felt the prickle of electricity that accompanied Eames’ touch. Enough for Robert as well, apparently, as Arthur felt a gush of hot fluid descend over them. Robert gently stroked them through the last pulses and then collapsed half on top of Arthur. 

“Oh my god,” Robert moaned.

“Right?” Arthur said breathlessly. 

“Darlings,” Eames said warmly as he curled up on Arthur’s other side.

“I think you broke my brain,” Arthur said. 

“How is it possible that the hottest sex I’ve ever had was frottage with a friend and his ghost boyfriend?” Robert wondered aloud. 

“I know, right?” Arthur said again. He thought his brain might actually be broken. He was having a very difficult time forming thoughts. Or words.

“It looked fantastic,” Eames said admiringly, but his voice had a note of sadness. 

“I know, love,” Arthur said comfortingly. “But at least you’re not all sticky afterwards? Okay, we need to get this cleaned up or we’re going to be permanently attached.” He forced himself to get up and fetch a washcloth from the bathroom. 

“Actually, I might have an idea about that,” Robert was saying to Eames as Arthur returned. “Can we talk about it in the morning though? My brain is also a bit wobbly from the amazing sex.” 

“Of course, pet. Clean up and get some sleep, darlings. We’ll talk in the morning.”


	9. Chapter 9

Arthur walked into the kitchen still towel drying his hair to find Robert making breakfast and Eames “helpfully” hovering. Arthur smiled at how easily Robert seemed to fit into their life. 

Robert noticed that Arthur had come in the room. “Oh, I’m almost done with breakfast. How many pancakes do you want?” 

“Three is good for now, thanks, babe,” Arthur said as he walked over to give Robert a quick kiss. “Good morning, Eames,” he said, smiling widely up at the ghost.

“Darling, tell Robert he should tell me about his idea for how I can feel things. He said we would talk in the morning, it is morning!” Eames said petulantly.

“I told you we’d talk about it at breakfast,” Robert said calmly, “we were waiting for Arthur anyway, and the food is nearly done.” 

“Oh fine!” Eames pouted and floated over to his chair, crossing his legs and arms sulkily. 

Arthur walked over and brushed his lips across the misty form of Eames’ mouth before taking his own seat.

Eames continued to grumble a little for form’s sake, but he looked pleased at Arthur’s attention.

“So what was your idea?” Arthur asked as Robert served up the pancakes. 

“Eames, have you ever possessed anyone?” Robert asked, sitting down as well. 

“Of course not!” Eames responded, horrified and offended. 

“Calm down,” Arthur said, rolling his eyes, “you’re cranky this morning. You wanted to know what his idea was, so listen.”

“Of course I’m glad that you’ve never possessed someone against their will,” Robert said, “But that’s not what I’m suggesting at the moment. I’m a medium, which should mean that I can invite possession if it’s necessary to help a ghost move on.”

“Should mean?” Arthur asked.

“Well, I’ve never actually done it, but I’ve read about it. Mediums used to do it all the time in the 19th century though for séances, and native mediums have all sorts of traditional techniques they’ve used to connect with the spirit world. I’ve done a lot of reading about it, but there’s so much I have left to learn, there’s so much that hasn’t even been written about yet,” Robert finished off wistfully. 

“So you want me to possess you?” Eames asked. 

“I thought we might try it, because you might be able to feel things if you’re inhabiting my body.” 

Eames looked stunned. 

“I don’t know if it will work, I don’t want to promise anything,” Robert said quickly, “but I thought we could try it. Not being able to touch Arthur is clearly difficult for you. And if this doesn’t work, I’ll keep looking. But this might be a simple solution, if it works.” 

“I could feel it?” Eames looked like he was going to cry. “I could feel it when Arthur touches me? I haven’t felt anything in so long.” 

Arthur went over to Eames and wrapped his arms around his incorporeal form. “You are perfect to me, just as you are. But I would love it if you could feel me touch you. Do you want to try it?” 

“Yes,” Eames gasped, his form shimmering in anticipation. 

“Dammit, I have to get to work,” Arthur said, looking at the clock. “Should I call off?” 

“No, you go, Eames and I will experiment while you’re gone, if that’s okay,” Robert said. 

******* 

Arthur agreed and went off to work. He probably should have called off, he though to himself, because he was completely distracted the whole day. Even Ariadne noticed and called him on it. 

“You’re not still mooning after Quentin, are you,” she asked, plopping down in the chair across from his desk. 

“Hmm?” Arthur looked up at her. “No, although I do miss him a bit, he was lovely. No, we’ve actually met someone new and I guess I’m a bit distracted.”

“Oooooh,” Ariadne teased, “a new boyfriend! Tell me about him!” She practically bounced with excitement.

“His name is Robert, he’s actually a medium. He’s nice. We like him a lot.”

“That gives me almost no information. I would assume that he is nice and you like him a lot if you’re dating him,” Ariadne said tartly.

“I told you his name is Robert and he’s a medium, that’s information,” Arthur insisted. 

“Hmmm, well, when can I meet him?” 

“I don’t know, at some point,” Arthur said. 

“How about tonight?” Ariadne pushed.

“No, not tonight!” Arthur said quickly. 

“Ooooh, do you have _plans_ tonight?” Ariadne waggled her eyebrows suggestively at Arthur.

“The fact that you picked up that trait from my boyfriend is highly disconcerting,” Arthur deflected, even as he felt a blush staining his cheeks. 

Ariadne cackled in response, “You do! Well, have fun and be safe. I’ll interrogate your new boyfriend another time, once you’ve thoroughly debauched him.” 

“Ariadne!” Arthur reprimanded.

“Oh please, I have no love life to speak of, I have to live vicariously through your exciting life with not one but two boyfriends." 

“Go away,” Arthur insisted, blushing harder. 

“Okay, I’ll let you get back to your work, I imagine you’d like to get home as soon as possible,” Ariadne teased him as she got up and went back to her desk. 

Arthur shook his head at her and then tried to focus on his work again, ignoring the tantalizing thoughts about what might await him at home.

*****

Arthur knocked as he opened the door to his apartment. “Hello, I’m home!” He set his briefcase down next to the coat rack and looked up to see Robert walking towards him. “How did it go? Where’s Eames?” 

“I’m right here, darling.” Robert’s voice had taken on a lighter quality and a British accent. 

“Eames?” Arthur asked, walking up to him quickly and taking his face in his hands. 

“In the flesh, darling. Literally.” Robert, no, Eames, smiled widely and hopefully at Arthur.

“It worked? It worked! Oh my god!” Arthur exclaimed, half laughing and half sobbing, wrapping his arms around Eames.

“It did indeed, darling. And now, I can finally do this.” Eames placed a hand behind Arthur’s head and kissed him fiercely. Arthur kissed him back, their tongues tangling as their lips crushed together. He had a moment of confusion, because he tasted Robert, but Eames in Robert’s body kissed nothing like Robert had the night before. There was no shyness, no hesitation: Eames kissed him like a drowning man seeking air.

Eames pulled Arthur toward the bedroom, shedding as much clothing as possible without having to break their kiss. Finally, Arthur found himself naked on his bed without a firm grasp of exactly how that had happened, with Eames kneeling over him, looking at him like he was a feast to devour. 

“All the things I want to do to you, darling,” Eames murmured appreciatively. “I want to touch you, I want to taste you.”

Arthur spread his arms out invitingly, “Go ahead, I’m all yours.”

“Mmmmm, you are, aren’t you, darling. You’re all ours.” And with that, Eames leaned down and licked Arthur’s abs. His tongue and hands began a careful survey of Arthur’s body. Arthur giggled slightly whenever Eames reached ticklish bits, but was mostly satisfied to let Eames explore. Finally, Eames moved down to his cock, which was standing at full attention after Eames’ ministrations. Arthur moaned as Eames laved the head with his tongue, before thoroughly licking every inch of his cock and balls. 

“Eames...” Arthur whined slightly, growing impatient at the teasing. 

Eames looked up at Arthur, Eames’ wickedness twinkling out of Robert’s bright blue eyes. He encircled Arthur’s cock with his hand, stroking him gently. “I used to wake you up early to watch you wank in the morning. You’re so gorgeous as you pleasure yourself. I loved watching you, and wishing that I was the one making you come,” Eames purred. 

“You’re such a perv,” Arthur teased, which turned into a moan as Eames bent down to take Arthur into his mouth, his lips stretching obscenely around him. “Oh god, Eames, your mouth!” 

Eames applied himself to thoroughly sucking Arthur’s cock. Arthur tried to watch, delighting in the interplay between Eames’ expressions on Robert’s lovely face, but he quickly became overwhelmed by the sensations. “Eames, I’m getting close, you should...” 

Eames smirked up at Arthur as he pulled almost all the way off, before swallowing him down again, all the way to the root. Arthur came hard as he was thrust into the tight wet heat of Eames’s mouth. Eames greedily continued swallowing around him until Arthur was shaking slightly with overstimulation. 

“Oh my god, Eames, that was... oh my god.” 

“I know, darling, I know,” Eames replied, looking both pleased and slightly overwhelmed, before he moved back up Arthur’s body to kiss him. Arthur kissed him eagerly, tasting himself. 

“That was a bit faster than I had planned,” Arthur said. 

“Oh, I’m not nearly done with you yet, darling,” Eames chuckled wickedly, as he flipped Arthur over and resumed his exploration of Arthur’s body with tongue and hands. Arthur moaned under his ministrations, his skin still tingling from his orgasm. 

“You’re so lovely, my darling, this gorgeous arse of yours. I could just eat you up,” Eames said as he playfully bit Arthur’s left cheek. Arthur yelped, which turned once again into a moan as Eames’ teeth were followed by lips and tongue. Eames’ tongue followed the slope of Arthur’s ass until it reached the rift. Eames carefully spread Arthur’s cheeks apart as he lapped gently at Arthur’s hole. 

“Oh god, Eames,” Arthur moaned, thrusting into the bed. His cock was valiantly trying to rise to the occasion, but he was still quite sensitive from earlier. Eames chuckled wickedly and continued opening Arthur up with his tongue. Arthur was losing track of time as he was overwhelmed by sensations, and he raised his head in confusion when he felt Eames stop. But Eames was only reaching for the lube on the bedside table. Eames pulled Arthur up so that he was on his knees, presenting himself to Eames. Eames studied him for a moment before snapping open the lube.

“Do you remember our first night together, darling?” Eames said breathlessly as he slid a lubed finger into Arthur’s hole. Arthur gasped and thrust back against the finger, silently urging him for more. “You fingered yourself open for me so prettily, and I wanted to be inside you so desperately. And now I am. I can feel your tight little arse around my finger. God, I never thought I’d get to feel you. You feel amazing, darling.” Eames sounded like he was on the verge of babbling

“Another, I can take another. Open me up so you can fuck me. I need you inside of me, I need you to take me and make me yours, I want to feel you, I want you to feel me,” Arthur keened. 

Eames quickly moved to obey Arthur’s orders, thrusting another finger inside of him, and scissoring him open quickly and efficiently, any pretense of teasing gone. Once Arthur was sufficiently prepped, Eames withdrew his fingers and reached once again for the lube to slick himself up. Arthur rolled over and reached into the nightstand. 

“Condom,” Arthur said, as he pulled one out of the drawer. He opened it up and rolled it down Eames’ erection, before taking the lube from Eames’ hand and reverently slicking him up. He pushed Eames down onto the bed and then lowered himself onto Eames’ cock. Eames groaned as Arthur slowly sank down onto him. 

“Darling,” Eames said worshipfully as he watched Arthur ride his cock. He looked completely wrecked. Arthur smirked slightly, before Eames gave a feral growl and flipped them over. Arthur found himself on his back, with his legs bent against his chest as Eames began pounding into him.

“Yes, fuck, Eames, yes, harder, just like that,” Arthur cried as Eames began hitting his prostate as he fucked him relentlessly. His cock was hard again, leaking precome onto his stomach. “God, Eames, I’m close again, please, please, please,” Arthur whined as he tried to thrust back against Eames. Eames growled again as he redoubled his efforts, his hips pistoning rapidly. Arthur reached down and took himself in hand, coming after two tugs. He felt his ass clamp down around Eames’ cock, and Eames fell forward over Arthur with a groan as his own climax overtook him. Arthur wrapped his legs around Eames’ back, pulling him closer through his last thrusts. Finally, he stilled, his head on Arthur’s chest. 

“Okay, we should clean up,” Arthur said after a few moments. Eames seemed frozen on top of him. Suddenly, he shuddered violently and Eames snapped out of Robert’s body, floating up toward the ceiling. 

“Oh, right, leave me with the clean up,” Robert called playfully at Eames as he pulled out of Arthur. Arthur went to the bathroom to clean himself up and came back with a washcloth for Robert. Eames was floating in lazy circles around the ceiling fan, looking quite dazed. Arthur gave Robert a quick kiss before he ducked into the bathroom as well. 

“Eames, are you okay” Arthur asked gently. 

Eames floated back down to Arthur. “Darling,” he said with a sob. “I got to touch you. I got to hold you and kiss you and touch you and taste you and suck you and fuck you and I can’t even believe it. I never thought that I would get to do that again. Let alone to you. I got to touch you.” Eames wrapped his translucent arms around Arthur, as if he were leaning on him for support. 

Robert came back out of the bathroom and looked at Arthur and Eames fondly. Arthur smiled back at him and motioned to the bed. 

“Shall we have a bit of a cuddle before we sort out dinner?” Arthur said, pulling the covers back. Robert and Arthur spooned together, with Eames curled up in front of Arthur.

“I can’t believe it worked,” Arthur said with wonder in his voice. 

“I know,” Eames responded.

“I’m so glad it did,” Robert said, pulling Arthur against him and kissing the back of his neck.


	10. Epilogue

3 Months later

*****

“Is that it?” Arthur asked Robert as he carried another box through the door. His friend Yusuf followed right behind holding a stack of boxes.

“There’s a couple more still in the back seat,” Robert said. 

“Okay, I’ll go grab them,” Arthur said, heading for the door.

“Wait, where should I put these?” Yusuf asked.

“Check with Ariadne, she has the master plan,” Arthur called as he headed down the hall toward the elevator.

Arthur came back up with the last of the boxes to find Ariadne and Eames arguing over where Robert’s desk should go. 

“Yes, the light is better over by the window, but if we put it there, the coffee table will always be in his way. You’re just ignoring that because you don’t have to worry about bumping into things,” Ariadne told Eames tartly.

“I do when I’m in him!” Eames insisted, “I need the light so that I can draw! It’s not just his desk, petal.” 

“Hey, guys, why don’t we just shift the couch and the coffee table over a bit,” Arthur suggested, setting his boxes down. 

“It’s a sofa, darling, but I’ll overlook that because it’s a brilliant idea that gets me what I want. One of the many reasons I love you.” Eames floated over to Arthur and kissed his cheek. Arthur felt a brief tingle where Eames’ lips touched his skin. 

“Don’t put those boxes there, Arthur,” Ariadne ordered, “you’ll screw up my system.” 

“Okay, this one is books, and this one is ‘random’ – really Robert, random? How is that a helpful label? – so where do they go?” 

Ariadne instructed Arthur where to put the boxes and they spent the rest of the afternoon unpacking and rearranging furniture. Ariadne and Yusuf’s assistance was repaid with pizza and wine and promises to help them the next time they needed to move, and then finally it was just the three of them. 

Arthur collapsed half on top of Robert where he was sitting on the couch. “I’m sooooo tired,” he complained. 

“Me too,” Robert said, lazily running his hand through Arthur’s hair. 

“Me three,” Eames agreed. 

“Why are you tired?” Arthur asked. “You didn’t do anything.” 

“I watched! And I... encouraged! I couldn’t actually carry things because I’m incorporeal.” 

“Oh sure, you’ll possess me when it comes to sex or cuddles, but suddenly we’re carrying boxes and you’re all ‘I’m incorporeal’,” Robert teased Eames.

Arthur laughed at the expression on Eames’ face. “Come down here and join us, love,” he said, motioning to the rest of the couch. Eames stuck out his tongue at Robert and floated down to where Arthur was lounging with his head on Robert’s lap. 

“So it’s official, you live here with us now!” Arthur looked up at Robert. “How do you feel?”

“It’s nice to have a place where I belong,” Robert said seriously. “Yusuf has been great letting me stay with him and giving me a job, but that was always just supposed to be temporary. This feels permanent, y’know?” 

“Well, it pretty much is as far as I’m concerned,” Arthur said, “It’s not like I could just pick up and move with Eames tethered here. And I know that we both consider you as here permanently.” 

Robert bent his head down and gave Arthur a soft kiss in response. But when he tried to pull away, Arthur reached up and pulled him back down in to a much filthier kiss. 

“I thought you were tired,” Robert said breathlessly when they finally broke the kiss. 

“Mmmm, not that tired,” Arthur said, turning to nuzzle against the hardness he felt increasing in Robert’s lap. 

“Shall we move this to the bedroom then?” Robert said, shifting slightly.

“You mean _our_ bedroom,” Arthur asked archly. “Yes, I think we shall.” Arthur got up off of the couch and his boyfriend and headed toward their bedroom.

“Eames?” Robert asked as he followed Arthur into their room.

“Since you did all the work, darlings, I think I’ll let you have your fun this time,” Eames said, floating along behind them. 

“You don’t have to,” Robert said. “It’s not like I don’t also get to enjoy it when you’re possessing me. I mean, it’s still my body.”

“Yes, but there’s something delicious about watching the two of you.” 

“Two gorgeous men performing at your direction, we’re like your own private porno,” Arthur teased Eames as he stripped out of the t-shirt and jeans he’d worn for moving. 

“Exactly,” Eames purred. 

“Well, in that case,” Robert said as he took off his own clothes, “I want you to fuck me in _our_ bed.” 

Arthur pulled Robert down onto the bed with him, running his hands all over his boyfriend’s lithe body. “Mmm, we haven’t done that much, have we?” 

“What can I say, I’ve gotten used to having someone inside me, and since it’s not Eames tonight, I need you,” Robert said in a sultry tone, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. 

Eames chortled and burst into applause. “Bravo pet! I’m clearly rubbing off on you.” 

“Well, normally you rub off on Arthur, so I thought it was my turn,” Robert said cheekily.

Arthur rolled his eyes at his ridiculous lovers. “What am I going to do with the two of you?”

“Lots of sex,” Robert said solemnly. 

“Yes, truly epic amounts of sex,” Eames echoed in a similar tone, nodding seriously. He was able to hold that look for only a moment before they all burst out laughing. 

Arthur smiled happily looking from the misty form of Eames, the love of his life, to Robert, the gorgeous young man who had fit so neatly and perfectly into their odd relationship. They had brought so much joy into his life. And also truly epic amounts of sex. 

“What are you smirking at, darling?” Eames asked. “If it’s something naughty you should share with the class.” 

“Just thinking about the truly epic amounts of sex that I’ve gotten to have with the two of you. And how happy I am with my life now,” Arthur said.

Robert kissed Arthur soundly in response. 

“Well I’d be much happier if there were some sex going on right now, darlings, chop chop,” Eames teased.

Arthur took that as his cue to flip them over and return to his appreciation of Robert’s body, following his hands with licks and nibbles when inspired. Before long they were both fully hard and Robert was thrusting up against Arthur.

“Patience, pet, patience,” Eames admonished gently.

Arthur did, however, take that as a cue to reach for the lube and begin fingering Robert open.

“So tight, love,” Arthur said, gently stretching him. Robert moaned in response. Arthur thought back to the last time they had done this without Eames, and bent down to give Robert’s cock a long wet lick. Robert shuddered and clenched around Arthur’s fingers before relaxing enough to allow Arthur to slip in a third. “That’s it love, you’re so good for me, aren’t you,” Arthur crooned.

Eames was watching intently as Arthur prepped Robert. “He’s ready for you, darling.” Robert moaned his agreement and spread his legs wider. Arthur slicked himself up and slowly pushed in, reveling in Robert’s tight wet heat. Robert gave a small sigh as Arthur slid inside of him. Arthur slowly pulled partly out and thrust back in, nearly losing control in the process. He held still for a moment, trying to calm himself, while Robert whimpered and thrust against him from underneath. 

“Oh darling, look how gorgeous he is,” Eames encouraged, “he’s just falling apart for you.” 

Arthur looked down at Robert who looked completely wrecked – needy and wanting under him, and then looked up at Eames who was staring at them with unabashed lust. Arthur took a deep breath and steadied himself before thrusting into Robert again, picking up a steady rhythm. Without warning, Eames moved over Robert and took his cock into his mouth. Arthur could see Eames’ face scrunch up in concentration as his lips and mouth shimmered into corporeality. The sight of Eames’ lips turning pink as he stretched them around Robert’s cock was enough to push Arthur over the edge. Robert wasn’t far behind, as Arthur felt him contracting around him as he road out his orgasm.

“Wow,” Robert said breathlessly. 

“Yeah,” Arthur said, leaning down to kiss him. 

“Wow,” Robert said again. Arthur grinned as he pulled out and started cleaning them up. Robert remained limp on the bed. Eames had floated down to snuggle up with him. Arthur smiled fondly at his boyfriends before joining them on the bed.

“So that’s what ghost lips feel like,” Robert said. 

“Heady, isn’t it?” Arthur said.

“All that work has been paying off though; you were able to hold form for a lot longer this time,” Robert told Eames. 

“I know,” Eames said smugly. “I’ve been practicing.” 

“Show off,” Arthur grumbled, settling in as the little spoon. 

“Of course darling, but you love it,” Eames preened. Arthur grumbled in return, but he felt his dimples emerging anyway.

“You didn’t get to enjoy the sex, you should join the cuddles,” Robert said, lazily motioning toward his body. 

“Oh, I enjoyed it thoroughly pet, you underestimate the appeal of watching Arthur systematically and efficiently take you apart and reduce you to jelly. But I won’t say no to cuddles,” Eames responded as he sank into Robert’s body. Arthur felt Robert/Eames’ arms tighten around him and then felt him nuzzling the back of his neck.

“I love you, both of you,” Arthur said sleepily, warm and happy in Eames’ embrace, and grateful to Robert for letting him get to experience this. 

“I love you too, darling.” Eames’ voice was muffled, still pressed up against Arthur, breathing in his scent. When Eames had the opportunity to possess Robert, he tended to make full use of his senses, indulging in the myriad pleasures he couldn’t enjoy as a ghost. “Robert also says he loves us. And that I should stop thinking what I’m thinking because neither of you have the energy for a second round tonight.”

Arthur chuckled at Eames’ narration of Robert’s thoughts, and rather agreed with them. A day of moving had wiped him out. “The spirit is willing, but the flesh is spongy and bruised,” Arthur joked.

“I’m not sure what that means, but Robert is laughing and saying ‘snoo snoo’ so I’m assuming it’s yet another thing I missed being dead,” Eames said sulkily. 

“Sorry love, don’t pout. We’ll introduce you to _Futurama_ soon. You’ll like it, lots of terrible puns. In the mean time, sleep, and then perhaps Robert could be persuaded to let us have a go in the morning,” Arthur said soothingly, feeling his exhaustion overtake him 

A year ago, he couldn’t have imagined this life for himself, even taking out the whole ghost part of it. In love and living with two boyfriends. And yet, he couldn’t imagine anything more perfect for his future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has encouraged me and commented and kudosed as I've made my way through this story. It started out as a funny little head canon we were throwing around on the inception slack chat (oh what if Eames was a ghost and he were haunting Arthur. But by haunting, I mean flirting. And Arthur doesn't believe in ghosts, so he's totally oblivious). And it turned into almost 20k words of a story. I have some ideas for one shots in this 'verse, so I might end up adding those at some point. But I have a number of other things to do first. But I do want to explore the Q storyline a little bit more.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Return a Thousand Times (An Eames the Sassy Ghost Remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15638211) by [CoffeeWithConsequences](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoffeeWithConsequences/pseuds/CoffeeWithConsequences)




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